I Hold A Force I Can't Contain
by HyperFitched
Summary: AU future story. Naomi and Cook run a Circus Company in Bristol, where most of the other gen2 characters are also performers. What happens when they decide to hire a new act from London for their forthcoming show? Don't be afraid, this is modern circus.
1. 1 Granted

Author's note - I only discovered FanFiction a couple of months ago when I broke my arm really badly and was stuck in bed on heavy painkillers whilst I waited for the surgery to reconstruct it. Thankfully I am now on the mend, and I have a metal rod holding my arm together. It was reading these stories that helped to get me through, so this one of my own is really a thank you to the writers who helped to brighten my day. Circle 142, FaithSky, LuvActually, unknownstuntsman, lizardwriter, KairiM, phoenixdyer, beautifully8broken and others too numerous to mention - this ones for you xx

I do not own Skins, I just like it.

1. Granted

Naomi.

I peeled my eyes open, reluctantly as ever, my biorhythms at odds with the rest of the world. In my humble opinion other people just wanted to wake up way too early, it was unnatural, uncivilised even. I had my own natural pattern, and luckily I had forged myself a way of life that could, for the most part, accommodate it. This morning was different, however, for today could be _the_ day. Oh God, I hoped that today would be the day. I spent the next ten minutes trying to force my eyes to stay open and clear the heavy sleep clouds from my brain. That, and listening out for the post of course. We were staying at my mum's house, I still used it as a base, we kept our office there and used it as our postal address. With it being the tail end of the winter, Mum was still around too. Once the summer hit she would be almost as much of a stranger to the place as I was. I lay on my back in my bed silently willing her to make me some tea, and bring it up to me. I needed sustenance, but I was too lazy to go and make it myself. Like I said, I have my own natural pattern, and this time of the morning wasn't generally part of it. I gave up on my telepathic battle with my mum, and sank back into my pillows, trying to resist the seductive siren call to return to the welcoming arms of sleep.

I was teetering on the brink when I heard the sound I had been waiting for, the sound of the post landing on the hallway floor. I jerked back to full alertness, trying to analyse what I had just heard. It was a thud. It was a good heavy thud, right? A good solid sound, from a good solid item of postage. Oh please, oh please, oh please let it be that large, fat envelope I've been waiting twelve weeks for, not the weedy thin one that held the curse of rejection. In an unprecedented display of energy, I leapt from the bed and stared helplessly around me. Deciding against my initial plan of just running down there naked, I grabbed the nearest items of clothing I could find and headed to the top of the stairs. Cook had beaten me to it, before I was halfway down I saw him grab the pile of post and run towards the living room. By the time I reached him, he had ripped open the package and was dancing round the living room like Pandora on mephedrone, waving a piece of paper in his right hand.

"Thirty-four grand, Naomikins," he yelled excitedly. "Thirty-four fucking grand!!"

All thoughts of decorum went out the window, and I shrieked like a schoolgirl, and ran to embrace him. I threw my arms around him and kissed him on the lips, before the two of us continued jumping round the room together, shouting and singing like idiots.

"I take it all this racket means that you got it."

That was my mum, standing in the doorway with a mug of tea in her hand, and a huge beaming smile on her face.

"We got it, Ginapops," yelled Cook, dancing away from my embrace, and squeezing Mum into a bone-crunching hug instead. "Thirty-four fucking grand."

"Yeah well, remember not to fritter it all away on fast women and drugs," she teased him.

"As if I would," grinned Cook with a sparkle in his eyes. "We might have to keep an eye on your daughter though…"

"Yeah right," I huffed, feigning petulance towards my best friend and my mother. "I'm gonna get my phone. We need to tell the others."

"Yeah, get on it, Blondie," laughed Cook, "cause we are so gonna party tonight. Party like fucking demons. Aaarroooooogh!!!"

I left him howling his trademark wolf's howl and went to spread the good news.

The good news was that against their better judgement, The Arts Council had decided to award us a grant to make our next show. Thirty-four fucking thousand pounds worth of grant. Cook and I ran a circus company called Circus Abandon. The name was his idea, I think he wanted us to sound wild and dangerous, though when times had been tough in the past I had mentally swapped the words around in my head, internally yelling 'abandon circus' and wishing I had a nice job in an office. It was a joke really, cause when it comes down to it, I couldn't imagine any other way to live. I met Cook at a party (where else?) when I was sixteen. Some guy was getting fresh with me and wasn't taking no for an answer. I was young, and scared and I didn't have the muscles I have now, but suddenly Cook came out of nowhere and battered seven shades of shit out of him. He nearly went down for it, but I testified on his behalf and we managed to get him off with just community service. We even wangled that he did his time at the youth centre where I was running circus workshops. Just juggling and unicycle and shit at the time, things I'd picked up whilst being trailed round festivals with my mum as a kid. That's when Cook and I became best friends, he started helping me with the workshops, and we ended up going off to circus school together. That's where we really found ourselves. He got into acrobatics and Chinese pole, and I really took to the aerial stuff, and we both grew stronger and more confident from having found something we love.

Cook tries it on with every girl he meets, but nothing ever happened between us. I think he sees me as his guardian angel, the one who saved him from the shit direction his life could have taken. Finding the circus gave him a useful way to channel that ridiculous amount of energy he has. It stops him getting wound up and getting himself into fights. He works out his aggression when he trains. Before we met, he had a one-way ticket to a life in and out of prison, but now he has a purpose, and I know he believes he's got me to thank for that. For my part, I love that fucked up energy of his. There's nothing that will stop the Cookie Monster. His lust for life is infectious, and he always keeps me going when I get down. As he often informs me, I'm supposed to be the 'clever' one, and yes it was me that wrote the grant application that now has him dancing round my living room like a loon, but I would never have got there without him constantly pushing me in all the right ways. He makes me believe in myself, he makes me believe in us. Every now and again, usually when we're mashed at some party, there will be a moment when we catch each other's eye, and we'll almost throw it all away for the sake of a drug-fuelled shag. But we always catch ourselves. What we've got is way too precious. Lovers come and go, but what me and Cook have, it's something special. It's love, proper love, and we won't let anything take it away from us. It drives us, and it made us want to form our own company after circus school. I don't think either of us could have stood being fodder for someone else's ideas. We always wanted to make our own work, we always wanted to be in control of our own destiny.

The rest of our gang of reprobates we picked up along the way. Freddie and JJ are jugglers, and bloody good ones at that. JJ has Aspergers and the combination of his slightly obsessive nature and his amazing mathematical brain means that he can work out all these incredibly complex patterns in his head, and then work on them for hours until he can translate them into objects in space. Freddie is such a stoner that he has no problem with constant repetitive actions, and so the two of them make a fine pair. Pandora is just off the chart. She's an aerialist like me, but she has no fear and will just try the craziest fucking stunts you've ever seen. She auditioned for us by hurling herself out of a tree, catching herself on her rope by one ankle and removing her bra at the same time. Cook took one look at that and hired her immediately. Can't say I disagreed with him though. I met Thomas when I was DJing at a party. He played the set after me and he totally rocked it. I got him to write the music for our last show, but as soon as he came to rehearsals, he fell head over heels in love with Panda, so now he comes with us and does our sound and lights. We've done a couple of tours together, working on a shoestring budget and struggling to keep it together on not much more than love and enthusiasm. We got the tent when Cook finally swallowed his pride and asked his mum to lend us the money. She's some kind of famous artist and she's absolutely minted, but they don't get on and she threw him out when he was fourteen. I know it took a lot for him to go back and ask her for something, but it meant so much to us. We keep saying that we're gonna pay it back so that she doesn't have any kind of leverage over him, but I think we both know it's not gonna be any time soon.

I made the calls and was greeted with much shrieking and swearing and general expressions of disbelief and joy from the other ends of the line. The grant meant that we were all going to get paid properly for once. We were going to hire a director. We were going to have the proper props and costumes instead of shit we'd cobbled together ourselves. We could buy some new rigging and get Thomas a bit of decent kit to work with. It was bloody brilliant. It was going to mean we could step up our game, and I for one couldn't wait to get started. I made my way back downstairs to find Mum and Cook sharing a spliff in the garden.

"Guys, it's ten o'clock n the morning!" I complained.

"Relax Naomikins," said Cook cheekily, holding the spliff out towards me. "This is a day of celebration."

What the fuck. It isn't everyday someone gives you thirty four thousand pounds. I accepted the gift and took a long drag, holding the smoke in my lungs with a smug grin on my face.

"Everybody happy?" asked Mum.

"Everyone's ecstatic," I replied as I exhaled.

"I suppose this means you'll be filling my house with gurning, mashed up circus freaks tonight," she smiled.

"Paaaarty!!!" yelled Cook.

"You love it, Mum" I scoffed.

"I do," she admitted. "Bring on the freaks."

"Alright," said Cook, fishing in his pocket for his phone. "I suppose these means I should phone those lovely girls. Can't wait to get those two scorchers in me big top."

"Oh, right" I said, all enthusiasm drained from my voice. Cook was so excited he barely seemed to notice.

Cook had done a number on me. I had been away training in Belgium when that little deal has been done. We'd always said we draft in another couple of performers if we'd got the grant, but instead of auditioning or even discussing it, he'd gone and hired someone behind my back, so I was kind of stuck with them. The Fabulous Fitch Twins. Cook had seen their act and met one of them at a circus convention when I was away, and came back completely smitten. He'd offered them a part in the show without even asking me, and had gotten everyone else onside to back him up. I was fuming when I found out, but what could I do, it was five against one? Admittedly they were fantastic aerialists. They did this synchronised silks act that was so on the ball it was uncanny. I guess it must be the twin thing. It meant they looked amazing together as well. But for all their skill and precision, to me it was bland, it was all too bloody perfect and it had no soul. They spent most of their time on the corporate circuit, so I suppose what they did was good for that, but what the hell did it have to do with us? We were supposed to be raw and edgy. We were supposed to be making theatre that meant something. How were the Fabulous Fucking Fitch Twins supposed to fit into that? I watched Cook giggling and flirting down the phone to one of them, and I wanted to slap him round the head. Honestly, I don't know what he was thinking when he asked them to come. Scratch that, I know exactly what he was thinking, or at least what his dick was thinking. Twins. Flexible, gorgeous, scantily clad twins, stuck in a tent with the Cookie Monster for the whole of the summer.

"Thunderbirds are GO," he grinned as he cut off his phone and turned back towards me. "We are gonna be twintastic."

There went my last hope that they'd suddenly found themselves a better offer. It must have shown on my face, cause he came towards me and put his hands on my shoulders.

"Lighten up, Blondie," he said. "Think about it. Twins babe. Fabulous, foxy, fit little Fitches. And two of them, that's one each Naomi darling."

"I'm not looking to fuck a Fitch twin, Cook. I have a boyfriend, remember."

"That wimp Justin? He's not good enough for my Naomikins."

"Cook, you don't think any man is good enough for me."

"Touche," he replied, deliberately mispronouncing the word like he used to when we were younger. My anger melted away in an instant. He was Cook, and I fucking loved him.


	2. 2 It Started With A Boy

A/N Well thank you lovely readers, over 200 hits in less than a day. Wow. Well here's the next one, seeing as you've all been so delightful.

Here come those fabulous Fitches

I do not own Skins, I just like it.

2. It started with a boy

Emily

It started with a boy, the way it always did with Katie. His name was Luke and he walked into our Dad's gym and asked if he could hang a rope from the ceiling beams to train. At first we thought he was just gonna climb up and down it like in army training or something, but Luke was an aerialist, not that we knew what that meant then. Katie's eyes were almost out on stalks the moment she saw him. I was almost considering going to fetch a 'Don't Get Fit, Get Fitch' gym towel to mop up the drool, but I could hardly blame her. He was gorgeous, even I could appreciate that. He was fit, toned and muscular, but not at all like the sweaty pumped up grunts that mostly populated the gym. Add to that a charming smile and messy surfer boy blonde hair, and poor Katie was a lost cause.

Then we saw what he did with the rope. This time, it was me who was staring with bug eyes and an open jaw. It was beautiful, I'd never seen anything like it in my life. He didn't just climb it, he practically made love to it. He curled himself around it, rolled down it, wrapped himself in its embrace and hung from it in ways that seemed to defy the laws of physics. He danced with it as if it were a living partner, and his lithe, supple body created shapes and movement that appeared almost beyond human in their gracefulness. As if he were something slightly more than human, as if he were some kind of god. We watched him intently, both of us completely mesmerised for entirely different reasons. Katie wanted him, but I wanted what he had. I wanted his power.

My sister wasted no time in going over there once he had come back down to earth.

"That was amazing," she simpered.

"Thanks," he replied non-commitally, stretching out his shoulders.

"It must take lots of hard work," she cooed, using her full armoury of tits and eyelashes and smiles. "How often do you have to train?"

"Quite often," he shrugged, before continuing his stretches. He wasn't taking the bait. To be fair he was so good looking, he probably had women throwing themselves at him all the time, and was oblivious to Katie's tricks. It was time to help out Big Sis, a double-pronged Fitch attack.

"I'd love to have a go at some of that," I said. "Do you think you'd be able to teach us a few tricks?"

He looked at me with something approaching pity.

"It's not that easy, you know," he scoffed. "It hurts like hell when you start and you have to build up a lot of upper body strength."

Ok, so with his feet on the ground he wasn't so much of a god as a prat, but there was no way I was going to back down.

"What, you mean like this?" I said, walking over to his rope.

I started to climb, pulling myself up hand over hand without using my legs. By the time I reached it my biceps were screaming, but I made it all the way to the top, before wrapping my legs round and looking back down at Luke.

"Oh," he said simply.

At that moment of triumph, I had never loved my Dad so much in my whole life. He had never been one to discriminate between men and women when it came to fitness, and all those reps on the naughty bar had left both me and Katie with arms of steel. It was a punishment we'd been consigned to more and more as we'd grown older, especially during the time when our family was tearing itself apart over the fact that I turned out gay. Katie came around to the idea pretty fast, especially when she realised she could turn it to her advantage. Instead of the stigma she'd expected it to be, she soon found out that having a lesbian twin was exotic. She used to make me snog girls in order to turn guys on at parties, and she used to tantalise them with the prospect of a twinsome, before fucking off with them and leaving me fighting off their loser mates. As soon as she discovered that her gay sister made her seem more interesting and attractive, she used to flaunt me round the place like a trophy. Dad always tried his hardest to be fair, but my endless screaming matches with my mother meant that a visit to the naughty bar was never very far away. Still, I guess it paid off, cause at this point in time it meant Emily Fitch – one, tosser Luke – nil.

"Wow," said Luke, as I slid back down the rope. "Are both of you that strong?"

"You bet, babe," replied Katie, flexing her arm to show him the curve of her bicep, and encouraging him to feel it. I smiled to myself, she usually tried to hide the fact that she had muscles from her men, thinking they'd want her to be all feminine and dainty. Whatever it takes, Katie. Whatever it takes.

So Luke started teaching us some moves on the rope, and he wasn't wrong. It hurt like a bastard to begin with and we were covered in burns and bruises. But it was worth it. Katie shagged Luke, of course. If there's one thing you can say about my sister, it's that she always gets her man. I still thought he was a plonker, but he was a useful plonker. He was our gateway into a different world. We soon outgrew our little sessions in the gym and started looking for other places to train. We started checking out a few of the circus centres around London, and started meeting new people and making new friends to train with. Our already high levels of fitness and flexibility (thanks Dad) meant it was relatively easy for us to learn new moves and new skills as we went along, but it was when we discovered the silks that we really came to life. Twin drops of stretchy fabric hung from a single point meant you could do everything you could do on a rope, and way, way more. We took to the discipline like we were born to it, and of course everybody loved the twin shit. Luke was unceremoniously dumped as Katie discovered a world full of beautiful, bemuscled fit circus blokes, most of them a hell of a lot nicer than him. And as for me, I was in seventh heaven. The women, oh my goddess, the women…. Circus girls - fit, lithe, bendy, toned and muscular. Skin tight costumes, tattoos, dreadlocks, whips and wigs, bad attitudes and curiosity. It felt like coming home. Finally, I was with my own people.

Most of the time I loved working with Katie. Of course we still bickered and fought, but we were so buzzed up on the high of what we were doing that we soon forgot about it, and went back to work. We got good, and then we started getting gigs, and then we started getting noticed. Soon enough, we managed to give up our day jobs and became full time Fabulous Fitch Twins. At first it was brilliant, we'd learnt to do other stuff like stilts and fire, and we'd get to do all kinds of different events, travel the country, and even getting gigs in Europe. Just the adrenalin from being up there is the most incredible high, no drug can match it. I finally had it, the thing I'd wanted when I first saw Luke in the air. I had the power. Now I was the goddess. It's a huge ego trip, when you see people looking up at you like you're superhuman. It's makes you feel superhuman, and I was addicted to it. But then it began to change. Everybody wanted the silks act, it became our signature show. Katie got us a new agent, and we started getting better paid gigs, and doing more and more corporate stuff. Looking pretty for a bunch of fat cat knob ends who wouldn't know real circus if it hit them on the head with a mackerel. I watched my mates going off and getting involved in exciting stuff, crazy theatre projects in warehouses, touring with outdoor multimedia shows, making off the wall performance art for underground parties, and it struck me that I was getting very bored. It hit me like a ton of bricks last summer, when everyone was getting ready for a massive installation at Glade Festival, and me and Katie were stuck doing some product launch for a new brand of washing powder. I'd tried getting Katie interested in some cooler stuff, but she'd gotten a total business head on.

"They can't afford us, babes," was all she'd say, dismissing my efforts to actually have some fun.

I'd tried some abortive attempts to train with other people, but Katie was like a jealous lover, the instant she saw my interest wandering, she'd reign me in and insisted we trained together. It wasn't like we needed it. Christ, I could do that fucking silks act in my sleep by now. It's just that she was marking her territory. I was hers, and there was no way she was letting anyone else get their claws into me. I wasn't just her sister, I was her meal ticket. All my life I'd been swept along in Katie's slipstream. She was the older twin, only by ten minutes, but she started life in pole position and try as I might I just couldn't overtake her. She was a powerful force, my sister, the only time I'd managed to even slightly step away from her was when I came out, and yet she'd even managed to co-opt that into the legend of Katie Fitch. So there I was, providing attractive moving wallpaper for people who didn't care, and I didn't have a fucking clue what I was going to do about it.

And then I met James Cook. Katie and I were performing at a circus convention in Brighton. It was a big international showcase with lots of invited foreign promoters. We'd done our act and Katie was off schmoozing and networking. I was rubbish at that sort of thing, I just couldn't manage to scrape together the flagrant self-promotion and insincerity needed, so I left it to the expert, and headed off to the bar. Cook zoned in on me like a shark sniffing blood in the water. After a few extremely unsubtle attempts to get into my pants, he kind of twigged that I wasn't interested, but instead of heading off in search of more fertile pastures, he stuck around and started talking to me like I was a normal human being instead of a potential conquest. He started talking about his company, and it was as if someone had set him on fire. He was _so_ excited about making his new show, about the possibility of getting funding, and what they were going to do with it. He raved on and on about his partner Naomi, and all the other people they worked with, making them sound like a proper little family. I seriously liked the guy and a few pints down the line, I had been completely seduced by the idea of Circus Abandon, and by Cook's incandescent enthusiasm. I was desperately jealous of his passion. I wanted, no I needed, to be involved in something that made me feel that much.

"Well, if you ever need any extra performers…" I slurred at him hopefully.

"Ems, are you shitting me?" he asked. "The Fabulous Fitches wanna be in my show?"

"Sure," I enthused, amused that he thought I would be doing him a favour, when really it would be the other way round.

"You are on, Emily Fitch," he said, with the widest, most beautiful grin I had ever seen on a boy. "We get that money, and you are fucking hired."

By the time Katie found us we were completely munted, dancing to Parisian techno at a club half a mile away on the sea front. She looked like she was going to give me a hard time, until Cook charmed her with vodka, and one of the pills me and him had consumed half an hour earlier, and all three of us danced the night away as mashed up and carefree as teenagers.

I had no idea, how I was going to persuade Katie to give up a life of lucrative gigs and living in London, to go and live in a caravan and make experimental circus theatre with a bunch of freaks in a leaky tent in Bristol. But Cook had enchanted me, and I knew that if I didn't get to make that change, it would destroy me. Fortunately, external events seemed to intervene on my behalf. Katie was dumped by her boyfriend Brian. She was devastated, nobody dumps Katie Fitch. They had been going out for just over a year, and she actually seemed to really care for him, which was unusual for her. Usually she would swap boyfriends like other people swap mobile phones, upgrading regularly as soon as a better model came out. Just as long as she always had one in tow. Much to my surprise, she didn't go out and fuck the first available guy she came across. It looked like she might actually need some time to grieve over this one. I seized my opportunity, painting it as a wonderful chance to get out of London for a while, away from all the things that reminded her of Brian. I couldn't believe it when she acquiesced, but I wasn't going to ask her twice. When that call came through from Cook that they had got the grant, we giggled down the phone at each other like kids, and my heart started thumping in my chest. I had forgotten what that raw excitement felt like. It felt good. I was about to step into a brand new life, and I smiled at the irony that for me, once again, it had started with a boy.


	3. 3 Reputations

I do not own Skins, I just like it.

3. Reputations

Naomi

"Well that just a complete load of bollocky wank shite, James."

The not so dulcet tones of our new director rang out across the table, managing the near impossible task of stunning Cook into silence. It was day three of our little adventure, and we'd deciding to engage in a little post-rehearsal bonding session in the pub. It was the first time we'd ever worked with a director, and it was proving to be an experience. Anthea Stonem had a well-deserved reputation both as a fearsome director and a fearsome human being, and it would appear neither reputation had been an exaggeration. She had waltzed into our rehearsal room on the first day with her strange, almost ghost-like daughter in tow, and had immediately claimed the space as her own.

"Effy has been having a few problems," she announced. "I like to keep her close by me, so I can look after her."

Effy didn't say a word, but merely smiled vacantly at each of us in turn. We soon learned that this was nothing unusual, it seemed that Effy hardly ever said a word. Whatever problems she'd been having, she certainly kept them to herself. Anthea then proceeded to rip up the schedule of everything we had planned to do for the whole of that first week, saying we needed to strip down our expectations, and start again from scratch.

"For this to work," she stated plainly, "we all need to start living outside of our comfort zones. You need to forget about everything you think you know, in order for us to construct a newer and more visceral reality."

Cook and I exchanged dumbfounded glances, but we had decided to put ourselves into her hands and we had to trust her. She was infamous. Everybody wanted to work with her. We had seen a show that she had directed by an acrobatic troupe called Equilibrium last summer and it had been groundbreaking. There had been points when my heart had swelled with emotion as I'd been watching it, and points when even hard-hearted Naomi Campbell had been struggling to keep a tear from her eye. I remember turning to Cook as we walked out of the theatre that night and telling him, "I think I've just seen the future."

So we had given ourselves over to Anthea as she led us through various exercises and games designed to rip apart our conventional relationships with our equipment, our disciplines and each other, and I have to say I was fucking loving it. She had completely refused to enter any discussion about the narrative of the piece before tonight, which is when Cook had gotten himself into such a pickle, with his suggestion that we include the twins silks routine at a certain point within the show, and prompting Anthea's outburst.

"That makes no fucking sense at all," she continued. "This is a point when the audience needs conflict, aggression and danger. They need to feel the protagonists struggle between bravery and compliance. And quite frankly I am _so_ fucking over watching pretty little girlies wafting the fuck around on cunting silks."

I struggled to stifle a smirk, because I actually agreed with her, but at the same time I couldn't help but glance over at the Fitch girls to see how they were taking it. Katie looked shocked, but she was trying to hide it, not daring to take on the foul-mouthed whirlwind that was Anthea Stonem. But it was Emily's reaction that stopped me in my tracks. Her mouth only betrayed the tiniest hint of a smile, but her eyes, her beautiful eyes were laughing. I had to force myself to look away before someone caught me staring, but as I did I noticed Effy watching her too. And for the first time in the three days since I'd met her, Effy was smiling.

Unlike Anthea's, the reputation that the Fitch twins had carried before them as the stuck up divas of the corporate world seemed to bear no relation to the reality that presented itself before me. Despite Cook's insistence that Emily was a complete sweetheart, I had refused to believe it, convinced that it had been Cookie's little disco stick that had been doing all the talking. But from the moment I had met her, I had been forced to revise that opinion. She was lovely. She seemed genuinely excited about the prospect of working with us, and had thrown herself enthusiastically into all of the games that Anthea had invented for us. She was always cheerful, even when she was knackered and she was frighteningly fucking strong. Even Katie, who I had heard could be a completely loud-mouthed obnoxious bitch, was quieter and more subdued than I'd expected, already a little out of her depth, but doing her best to come to terms with it. I was still annoyed about the way he'd done it, but I was beginning to think that Cook might well have been right to take a gamble on them. My original theory was not completely wrong however, as he was clearly besotted with Emily, always asking her opinion on stuff, and sneakily managing to get himself paired up with her for exercises, especially if they required any trust games or physical contact.

"So what do you think, Ems?" he asked her in response to Anthea's statement. I smirked again over the cute little nickname he'd given her. It wasn't often I got the chance to watch Cook make this much of a fool of himself over a girl.

"Yeah, no," she said contradicting herself. "I think maybe we should mix it up a little there, you know. Try something we haven't done before."

"Exactly," said Anthea forcefully. "We don't have a doubles trapeze pairing in the group, do we?"

She looked around as everyone shrugged and muttered no. We had thought about it, but I'd never really fancied putting my life in Pandora's hands.

"Anyone ever done any?" asked Anthea.

"I've done a bit," I volunteered nervously.

"Right then, Blondie. You're up." She informed me, co-opting Cook's nickname for me. "Anyone else."

"Yeah, I've kind of done a bit too," admitted Emily.

"Excellent. She's tiny," said Anthea, focussing her attention on me. "You shouldn't have any problem chucking her about."

Cook shot me a look clearly stating that he wanted to be the one chucking Emily about.

"Since when did you do any doubles?" Katie asked her sister, forcing our attention back to the other side of the table.

"I used to train it with Annabelle," said Emily. "You know when I was… distracting her."

The second half of that sentence was almost said under her breath, and meant only for Katie, but Cook pounced on it immediately.

"Distracting her from what?" he demanded.

Katie's face lit up like a beacon.

"Distracting her from her boyfriend, actually," she beamed. "Brian. He was so fucking fit, but he had this girlfriend Annabelle. So I had to send in my secret weapon."

"Your secret weapon being..??" asked Freddie.

"Emily, of course," laughed Katie. "When she gets her charm on, no woman can resist her."

"You're gay?" sputtered Cook. Oh this was fucking funny.

"As a window," laughed Katie.

"And you seduced some poor guy's girlfriend to order, so you're sister could cop off with him?" I laughed.

"Impressive," even Effy was moved to join in.

"Oh it's not like she didn't enjoy it," said Katie. "Annabelle proper loved the ladies after that. She ran off to Germany with that hot Argentinean sword swallower."

"What, you totally gayed her up Emsy?" asked Pandora.

"It wouldn't be the first time either," said Katie proudly. "Emily's a right fanny magnet for straight girls. There's no stopping her. She's like the Lezminator or something. It seems like once you've had a taste of Emily Fitch, there's no going back."

"Blimey," said a stunned Pandora, clutching Thomas' hand just in case she was about to get sucked in by Emily's charms.

"Interesting," put in JJ. "Cause Cook seems to think he's got the cure for lesbianism in his pants, when Emily's definitely got the cure for heterosexuality in hers."

"It's brilliant actually," laughed Katie. "Emily lures away all the girls, leaving lots of lonely boys for me."

I had watched Emily throughout the whole of this exchange, saying nothing and staring down into her pint glass, swirling the liquid around in her hands, and simply waiting for it to end. This was obviously not the first time she'd been through this. Katie clearly loved shocking any audience with tales of her irresistibly hot gay sister, the implication being that as Emily was to girls, so Katie was to guys. The Fabulous Fucking Fitch Twins – literally. What I did notice, however, was that Emily wasn't denying any of it. I was so going to tease Cook about this later. Far from sorting himself out a tasty little shag for the summer, he managed to land us with a female version of himself.

"Fucking outstanding," said Anthea, getting up fag in hand, ready to go outside. "I want sex, blood, aggression and violence. Get to it, Blondie. You and the Lezminator here can start work first thing in the morning."


	4. 4 Doing Doubles

A/N - Thanks for reading people. Big shout out to Self is an Activity for the lovely comment. I am feeling the love, so right back atcha everyone xx

I don't own Skins, I just like it.

4. Doing Doubles

Emily

Ten o'clock the next morning and I'm alone in the trapeze studio with Naomi Campbell. Anthea sent us out of the main rehearsal room and told us to get on with it. We've spent the last half hour warming up and we've barely even looked at each other. Fucking Katie. My own little personal rainbow warrior, I think I fucking preferred it when she was in denial. It's not that I'm bothered about being out at work, circus people generally don't give two shits about that kind of stuff, it's just that I could have done without it coming with the fanfare. Now all anyone's gonna think is that I'm some kind of insatiable beast. And here I am about to wrap my thighs around a woman I barely know, my boss in fact, and I've somehow got to make her feel comfortable about doing that. Doubles trapeze is an extremely intimate discipline. Two people, one trapeze. The way you move around it and the way you interact, the simple business of transitioning from one move to the next demands a physical closeness that you wouldn't normally experience with anyone besides a lover. And it requires trust, a really high level of trust. How the fuck am I supposed to get Naomi to trust me after Katie's turned me into a sideshow freak? We both reach a point where neither of us can convincingly claim that we need to do anymore stretching, but we've got to do something about this ridiculous tension, or this whole fucking experiment is going to be a disaster. I bite my lip. Fuck it, I didn't come here to waste my time poncing around and sticking to what is safe. I came here to take risks, and I have to be brave about it.

"So…" I said, breaking the awkward silence. "Sex, blood, aggression and violence? Where do you want to start?"

"I dunno," shrugged Naomi, a wicked smile creeping slowly over her face. "Where did you start with…..Annabelle?"

Her tone is mocking but her eyes are friendly. She's trying to give me a chance to tell my side of the story.

"Listen," I sighed, "Katie… has a tendency to over elaborate. I have a girlfriend."

"You don't have to reassure me Emily," she laughed. "I'm not going to be fucking scared of you just because you're gay. Besides, nobody's that irresistible."

"Fine," I say, and the tension dissipated, as we giggled together.

"She obviously loves the hell out of you, you know," said Naomi.

"Yeah, sometimes I wish she wouldn't."

Naomi pulled me into a hug, just to reassure me that everything was going to be alright. Ok, so she's not just gorgeous, she's really kind of cool. Gorgeous, what? Shit. Fuck. Did I really just think that? No, relax Emily, you're allowed to appreciate her, it doesn't mean you want to shag her. Think about it, she's tall, shoulder length peroxide blonde hair with a hint of a wave to it, perfectly formed muscles and incredibly piercing blue eyes. What's not to like? But it's more than that. For a start you've had Cook bigging her up to you every time you've spoken for the past two months. But it's also what she represents, a new chance, artistic freedom, something you've been craving for the better part of a year. Yeah, that's it, you don't want to fuck her, you want to _be_ her. She's in control. She runs her own company. She's making the work she wants to make. She's strong, independent, opinionated. She knows what she wants, and she knows how to get it. It's just transference, pure and simple transference. Naomi Campbell is cool and out there, and you're just the git who sells washing powder.

"Hey, why don't we just work through a few basic moves," her voice interrupts my ridiculous internal debate. "We can worry about the sex and violence thing later."

"Sounds good to me," I say, trying to hide the relief in my voice. "Ya wanna try some under the bar stuff?"

"Sweet," she says casually, and wanders over to the rope.

I watch her as she climbs the rope up to the trapeze bar, remembering the first time I met my new boss. Four days ago me and Katie had turned up on the first day of rehearsals, nervous and more than a little bit intimidated by the thought of joining such a well established group as outsiders. Cook had yelled 'Emilio!!' and run straight up to embrace me, picking me up and twirling me round, before popping me back to the ground and placing his other arm around Katie's shoulder and dragging us off to meet the rest of the group. A black guy with a wonderful welcoming smile was the first to greet me. He held out his hand for a handshake and introduced himself.

"I'm Thomas, so pleased to meet you."

Next came a Tasmanian devil with a thick Bristol accent, and a barely contained excitement.

"New girls," she declared loudly. "Whizzer, I'm Pandora."

"Freddie," smiled a lanky Mediterranean looking guy, waving casually from where he was sprawled on a crash mat.

"And I'm JJ," announced a curly-headed lad, relentlessly twirling a flower stick in his fingers. "Welcome to the Circus Abandon Mothership. We're very glad to have you here, and we hope you enjoy your flight."

I looked round at the band of open, smiling faces, all eager to make us feel at home, and I started to feel my nervousness drain away. It was going to be fine, everything was going to be fine. And then there was Naomi Campbell. Sat in the opposite corner of the room with her back to us, typing furiously away on her laptop which was balanced precariously on top of a small vaulting horse, she had paid absolutely no attention whatsoever to our arrival.

"Naoms," shouted Cook, to no avail. "Babe. Babe. Babe…"

He must have shouted 'Babe' about eight times before she finally dragged her eyes away from the screen.

"What?" she hissed at him impatiently, and my heart missed a beat. Oh fuck, it was _her._ Cook's beloved partner in crime was _her_.

"New crew," said Cook, opening his arms towards me and Katie.

"Oh yeah, Hi," she said casually, before turning back towards the screen. "I just got to get these emails done before Anthea turns up."

And that was it. No hint of recognition. Thank fuck for that.

Two years ago, not long after we'd started training, Katie had gone off for a dirty weekend with Luke somewhere, and I had booked myself onto a weekend of workshops with a famous French aerial company who were visiting town. They were doing their show in a warehouse in Vauxhall, and the roof had been rigged with a dazzling array of equipment. I was stuck on one side of the building with the beginners group, mucking about with the basics of solo trapeze work, but on the other side of the room they were doing the cloudswing. I thought I'd been blown away the first time I'd seen Luke on the rope, but this was more than three times the gobsmack factor. A single rope, looped up and suspended from two wide points, but on swivels, so that the flyer could swing back and forth reaching an almost horizontal dead point. It was thrilling. I found myself losing focus on my own class and drifting back to the cloudswingers over and over again. They would start slowly, building up the swing with their arms and legs, at first sitting, but the more advanced pupils standing until they were high enough that the dead point lasted just long enough for them to perform their tricks. Once again, I had the feeling that I was in the presence of gods. All of them were beautiful. At least I thought so until _she_ climbed the rope. She eclipsed everyone. Her hair was shorter then, but still peroxide blonde, and her body, well yeah…. Where others had obviously come out in their best lycra catsuits, she was in a ripped up old T-shirt and a battered pair of leggings, like she didn't give a fuck about what anyone thought. She was all business. She didn't even bother with any of the sitting moves, just went straight to standing and swung as if she'd never truly belonged on the ground.

I abandoned any attempt to pay attention to my own lesson and just watched her transfixed. She threw herself off backwards and caught herself by one knee. She threw herself off forwards and caught herself by her shoulders in a crucifix position. She balanced on the tiny thread of rope on just the small of her back, before dropping off backwards and catching herself by her knees. My teacher dragged my attention back into my class, and took me through a few more moves. I did my best, but what we were doing just seemed so lame compared to what was happening behind us. As the next person took their turn, my eyes drifted inevitably back to the blonde goddess in human form that was on the cloudswing. Now she was sitting on the rope, gently swinging back and forth, chatting to the tutor, nodding her head and taking instruction, obviously building herself up to try something new. Eventually it was time. She stood back up and started to build the swing back up again. Even from this distance I could tell she was nervous, building herself up for something big. I held my breath unconsciously, as her swing reached its apex and she took one leg off and wrapped it round the rope, then the other until she was swinging with a knot wrapped round her ankles. I winced, knowing by that point exactly how much it can hurt as a rope starts to bite round a part of your anatomy. It must have been excruciating. She took a final breath at the back of one of her swings and I knew this was it. Next time she hit the front she simply let go of the rope and dived straight out of the swing.

"Fuck me," I shouted involuntarily, as it looked like she was going to hurtle to her death. Of course the knot around her ankles saved her and she hung suspended completely upside down as the rope swung backwards to its second dead point where she was able to flick herself up to standing again. She untangled herself from the footlock, sat down and simply laughed hysterically as she waited for the swing to die down. It was the most thrilling and beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. Someone pushing themselves way beyond the edge of their fears and coming up victorious. She was a champion, she was a lioness, she was an angel, she was….waiting for me right here, right now.

"Come on Ems," she called down at me from the trapeze. She had hauled her self into Catchers, a position where she was upside down, with her legs wrapped around the ropes and her thighs pressing against the bar, so she could easily take my weight and we could begin the process of learning to trust each other in the air.

My mind flashed back to the afternoon of that workshop, when I had enthusiastically signed myself up for a beginner's cloudswing class. I cringed at the memory. I was still so new to training, and the morning had kind of tired me out. My muscles were so fatigued I could barely get on the thing let alone get it swinging. The gorgeous blonde had made it look so easy I had no idea how hard it was just to get the bastard thing to move, or how much it hurt just to sit on it with the pressure of the rope biting into your thighs. My forearms pumped up to twice their size within in minutes, and I could feel the sides of my knees being rubbed raw as I battled with the unnatural momentum of the swing. I was almost in tears by the time the instructor made me come down. I scanned the room for the blue-eyed angel, praying to any god that was available that she had not been witness to my humiliation, but thankfully she was nowhere to be seen.

You can do this Emily Fitch, I told myself. You're not that scared little girl any more. You're a professional. You're a Fabulous Fitch. Cook chose you, and Naomi trusts Cook. Get over yourself.

I took a deep breath and started to climb the rope towards her. Reached out a hand towards her hand that was suspended beneath the trapeze and felt her strong grip close around my wrist. Keeping a grip with my feet, I took my second hand off and grasped around her wrist. This was it. I released my legs from the rope, and gave my weight completely over to her. I hung there in mid air, only her arms and her strength stopping me falling onto the crash mat below. Shitting hell, I was flying with Naomi Campbell.


	5. 5 Sex, Blood, Aggression and Violence

A/N I've been getting some lovely comments and lots of adds, so thank you very much everyone. This one goes out to Circle142 for teasing me with hints of exciting work to come.

I don't own Skins, I just like it.

5. Sex, blood, aggression and violence

Naomi

I've always been the living embodiment of the phrase 'Does not play well with others', and I've liked it that way, but the minute I got my hands on Emily Fitch, that delusion imploded under the weight of an instinctive new truth. When I was a kid I was a total loner, Mum's nomadic lifestyle not exactly lending itself to the forming of deep and meaningful relationships. It wasn't till I met Cook, that I knew what it was like to have a real friend at all. The others in the company had gradually sneaked their way in under my radar, but I still maintained a little bit of distance from them. Maybe it was something to do with being the boss, having to be the one making tough decisions and having to occasionally play the hard-ass. Cook might have a tough exterior, but inside he's as soft and fluffy as a kitten. If he likes you, he'll let you get away with almost anything. Plus he doesn't want to lose his reputation as the up for anything party animal, so it's always me that has to end up playing the bitch. So far in my career I've always naturally drifted towards the solo disciplines like cloudswing and hoop. Stuff where I don't have to rely on anyone else. I've dabbled with the more interactive stuff, mostly with Cook, sometimes with the others, but though I'm quite happy devising in a group or working in an ensemble scene, when it came to being in the air I'd never really found the magic formula with anyone else.

But I needed to try. Anthea was right, you could tell so much of a story with doubles trapeze, and when the connection was there, it was mesmerising to watch. You could always tell when a couple had it, The Thing, the magnetism, the chemistry between them. Then it stopped becoming about the tricks that they performed. You could watch a pair who were technically perfect, but if they didn't have The Thing, it was nothing more than an exercise in showing off. When they did, the effect was electric, it was nothing less than the union of two souls defying gravity. Needless to say, finding such a partner was not as easy task, much more difficult than finding a suitable lover, especially for a miserable, isolationist cunt like me.

That morning though was like full on trapeze partner love at first sight. From the moment of first suspension something just felt kind of right. She was heavier than you'd suspect from someone so tiny, but believe me in our world that's not an insult. Muscle is heavier than fat, and the ones on Emily's shoulders rippled as she turned herself upside down beneath me. She was so smooth, she just held herself so well in the air, and we rattled through the first few basic moves as if we'd been working together for weeks instead of minutes. I let go of one hand and caught her by the ankle as she flipped over and laid horizontally. We came back to a two hand grip, before she stretched her legs up by my shoulders. I gave her wrists a quick squeeze and called out 'hup' to warn her, before letting go of both hands and wrapping my arms round her calves and holding her upside down with her feet pressed against my shoulders. With her arms over her head she swung forwards, backwards and then forwards again, reaching up to where our bodies were joined. It's a common mistake to try and grab for the catcher's hands to remake the contact that means that you can drop their legs and reconnect with their arms. It makes it harder for you to see, easier for you to get tangled. It's a natural reaction from the fear that you're going to get dropped, but it makes it so much harder to make a clean catch. But Emily just reached up past the grip where I could clearly see her, used her stomach muscles to momentarily suspend herself, creating the perfect dead point for me to make my move. She showed no fear, she trusted me. It was my turn to follow through on that trust. I dropped her legs and we made the catch perfectly. She pushed out her legs in front of her, holding her hips high so that she moved outwards and forwards before swinging down and back, minimizing the strain her drop would place on my body as it wrapped round the trapeze. Again we felt the dead point as her legs flipped out at the back of the swing, and I pulled her up and back, before she used the momentum to flip herself back upwards coming to rest in a horizontal pike beneath me. She laughed out loud for several seconds before speaking.

"That was fun," she said.

It went on like that for the next couple of hours. We would suggest and try stuff we both knew. We'd nail it. We'd move onto the next thing. Before long we'd started to try and string a few sequences together. I couldn't believe how easy and natural it was to work with her, well just to be with her. In the breaks we'd just lie next to each other on the crash mat, buzzed up from the adrenalin and laughing as we chatted about how we'd both gotten into circus, and into flying.

"So how am I doing?" I asked her. "Feel safe in my hands?"

"It's good," she replied. "It feels really solid. I think we could make something out of this. I'm really enjoying it."

"Yeah, me too."

"We'll be doing sex and violence before you know it."

I snorted with laughter in a most unglamorous fashion.

"And how was it for you?" I asked.

This time it was Emily who spluttered with laughter. She rolled onto her side and looked me in the eye.

"Oh you were good, honey. I definitely didn't have to fake it."

"Better than Annabelle?"

Oh fuck me, why did I have to ask her that? She's going to think I'm flirting with her. But suddenly, for some reason, I really wanted to know. Emily didn't flinch.

"You were much better," she said calmly. "Annabelle was a top shag, but she wasn't that much of a trapeze partner."

I swear my heart just got a little bigger in that moment. Score one to the Mighty Campbell. Kicking aerial ass.

"Well as long as you don't try and 'distract' me" I goaded.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" she sighed.

"No, I fully intend to be teasing you about that for the whole of the summer."

"Well you're gonna have to earn that right, bitch. So get your ass back up that rope before I have to kick it back up there."

"Yes ma'am," I said jumping to my feet, and starting to climb. "I like 'em feisty."

"And I like 'em mouthy," she replied.

I pulled myself up to catchers without taking a swing to help the momentum, just to show off.

"So am I not 'distractable'?" I teased her as I hung down and waited for her.

"In your dreams, Campbell," she scoffed. "Nobody's that irresistible."

We laughed together as she climbed back up to join me. It wasn't flirting, it was banter. Relaxed, unthreatening banter between two workmates. Yeah, banter.

At lunch time I was stood outside in the car park, having a much needed fag break with Anthea.

"So how's it going with the fanny magnet?" she asked me just I was inhaling. My eyes grew wide, and the smoke caught on the back of my throat. I coughed and spluttered, and fought back the sting of water in my eyes.

"Pardon?" I finally managed to choke out.

"Little Fab Fuck Fitch," said Anthea. "Any chemistry?"

"I don't…we didn't…we just trained…"

Oh smooth, Naomi. Very smooth. Anthea fixed me with a steely glare.

"That _was_ what I was talking about."

I looked up to take another drag of my cigarette before answering, only to catch Effy sitting cross legged on the bonnet of a nearby car, staring at me with a fag dangling from her fingers and a knowing smirk on her face.

"The _training_ went very well," I said pointedly. "Emily's got good technique, we got through quite a lot of stuff already. I think it could work."

"Excellent," said Anthea. "I want you to train with her in the mornings for a week, and put a routine together to show me next Wednesday."

"But what about the rest of the show?" I protested, unsure about missing so much rehearsal time with the rest of the cast this early in the process. Anthea waved her fag at me dismissively.

"You leave that to me. I want to see what you can make of this. Pick some music to work to. Something different to what either of you have used before. And remember I'm not interested in fucking technique. I want to see guts. I want to see passion. What do I want to see?"

"Sex, blood, aggression and violence," I muttered.

"Good," said Anthea, crushing out her cigarette with her boot, and starting to walk away. "Oh and yeah," she threw back at me over her shoulder. "Try not to shag her before the show's up. We don't want any histrionics."

I was too stunned to protest my innocence. She left me with my mouth hanging open, and her creepy fucking daughter ripping me open with her eyes.

One week later and it was time for us to show what we had done.

"Are you ready for this, Ems?" I asked her as the rest of the gang started to file into the trapeze studio. She didn't say anything, bust just nodded back at me and I could tell she was more than a little bit nervous. I squeezed her hand to show her that I was with her all the way. It was going to be alright. We were going to be alright. Despite Anthea's insinuations there hadn't been any kind of problem between me and Ems whilst we were training. Having been issued with the challenge we simply put our heads down and got on with it working as hard as we could, as we were both equally keen to show what we could do. First we worked on getting some more moves together and getting them solid. Then we started thinking about the music. It was Emily who came up with the track we eventually used. I have to admit she surprised me, it wasn't the kind of thing I'd ever imagine her listening to, but it was perfect for what Anthea was trying to get from us. Emily and Katie went back to London at the weekend, and Emily went to see her girlfriend. I spent Friday night with Justin, but most of the rest of the weekend catching up with the backlog of paperwork and emails I missed during rehearsals, sorting out tour dates and a million and one other things that needed doing for the show. Come Monday morning I found myself waking up with an extremely unusual amount of enthusiasm, but I was keen to get back into the studio. We had a lot of work to do, turning our routine into a piece of work, adding extra choreography and working on our motivations. But it was the same every morning that I worked with Ems. We got on so well, and everything was just so much fun that for those couple of hours I could forget about being the boss and remind myself why I started doing this shit in the first place.

Wednesday afternoon had been a surprise for us too as we were called into the main hall to see what the others had been doing. It seems that Anthea had been pushing them through the same kind of mix and match exercise to stir things up and bit. JJ and Cook had paired up and they'd strung JJ up in Pandora's bungees. It was a hilarious piece of slapstick as the two of them attempted to pass objects between them whilst JJ bounced up and down and Cook tumbled about below him. Freddie and Pandora played with fire quite literally, working on the physical contrasts of Freddie spinning firestaff and Pandora spinning in a hoop above him, creating beautiful pictures in space. Even Effy got in on the act, climbing up to lie on top of one of the rigging trusses and throwing down a pair of silks as if they were part of her hair, which Katie proceeded to climb and dance upon as if she were trying to woo the silent princess. It was gentle, and quite romantic. I took a deep breath and looked across at Emily as Anthea announced it was our turn. What we had seen so far had been an interesting experiment, and fun. I felt a momentary stab of panic as I wondered if we had taken ours a little bit too seriously. But the look in Emily's eyes was like a shot of adrenalin to the heart. She was daring me, _daring_ me not to bottle it.

Once everyone had settled in the trapeze studio, Emily and I left the room. We stayed out there until Thomas started our music for us. The track we'd chosen was a mash up of 'Points of Authority' and 'One Step Closer' by Linkin Park, and Jay Z's '99 Problems'. Smashing heavy metal guitar and expletive-ridden rap against each other it was the perfect soundtrack for Anthea's challenge, and we waited outside until the first lines had rung out.

"If you're having girl problems I feel bad for you son. I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one. Hit me."

On 'Hit me' Emily exploded into the room as if she'd been thrown. Rolling over several times and landing face down on the floor. I ran in straight after her and went as if to kick her in the stomach when she was down. She squirmed out of my way and ran, bouncing off a wall before coming back at me swinging. I grabbed her by the arm and threw her away from me and she somersaulted onto a crash mat. I jumped after her as if to tackle her down, but she flipped me over her shoulder and threw me backwards into the wall. She held me there, one hand around my throat as our eyes locked in a tense standoff, before she backed off and ran towards the rope. She started to climb but I caught up with her and hauled her back to the ground. She grabbed my hair, and yanked me off her, this time managing to escape all the way up to the trapeze. We continued our fight once we got in the air, using all the tricks we'd been working on during the week. Our moves had been carefully choreographed so that we wouldn't actually hurt each other, but we weren't holding back or trying to play it safe. We pushed it as far as we dared to make the fight look as realistic as possible. She bit me on the hand. I pulled her back by the hair and bit her on the neck. At one point she actually ripped the T-shirt I was wearing, and I heard Pandora scream when I pretended to smack Emily in the face and she bit down on the fake blood capsule she'd been carrying in her cheek. Well, we could hardly deny Anthea blood now, could we? Emily actually spat some fake blood out into my face, which wasn't part of the plan, but I'm guessing she was in the moment. I smeared the blood away with my sleeve, before launching us into a move that looked like I was actually going to throw her right off the trapeze. Of course I caught her, and as the song screamed towards its climax, we rattled through some big tricks catching hands, feet and other body parts in a frenzy of activity. At the end of it she scrambled away from me, back up to the bar, and I swung up towards her. In a final act of violence we'd practiced over and over again to get it inch perfect, she swung her leg back and appeared to knee me in the face. I threw my body backwards until I was hanging in upside down in catchers, seemingly unconscious facing the audience. Emily slid down my body until she was hanging from my arms. Then she pulled herself back up until our faces were level and kissed me full on the lips with her still bloody mouth, before dropping to the floor and stalking out of the room without a backwards glance.

Nobody clapped. Oh shit, had we really gone too far? I opened my eyes to see Anthea lighting up, in flagrant disregard for the smoking ban, and Emily poking her head somewhat nervously back round the door.

"Now _that_," said Anthea, stabbing her fag in my direction. "Is what I'm fucking talking about!"

After that everyone burst out into screams of wildly enthusiastic applause. Cook was howling with laughter.

"Total lezza fucking bitch fight," he yelled approvingly.

Effy waited until the noise had died down.

"So I take it you're not aiming for the family audience then?" she mused. Oh no, Effy darling, we are aiming for the jugular.

Half an hour later I still hadn't come down from the high. I was back in the car park smoking my third cigarette, when Emily came to blag one off me too. I chucked my packet over to her willingly. She had earned it.

"We nailed it, Ems," I said as she lit up and took a long first drag.

"Oh yeah," she said, exhaling and blowing a smoke ring. "We totally threw that bitch against the wall and screwed her fucking brains out."

A sudden vision of Emily doing exactly that to me exploded unbidden into my brain. What!!?? Oh no, no, no and a thousand more times no. You fucking idiot, Campbell. Repeat after me – do not think about shagging her, do _not_ think about shagging her. You and Emily could have something amazing. You've got The Thing. You've got the potential to blow people's minds with what you can do. You've never met anyone you've felt so happy with in the air. Do not blow it now. It's too good to throw away. If you can do it with Cook, you can do it with her. Stay calm, Blondie, you're just buzzed from the showing. You can do this. I swiped my pack of cigs back from Emily, and lit another one straight from the butt of the one I had on the go. You'll be fine, I assured myself. You've both got partners. You're not sixteen any more, you're an adult. You can do this.

A/N If anyone wants to listen to the track they perform to it's Points of Authority/99 Problems/One Step Closer on an album called 'Collision Course'

If ya want to see what doubles trapeze looks like I've posted a pic as my avatar on my profile.


	6. 6 Sibling Empathy

I don't own skins, I just like it. A lot.

6. Sibling Empathy

Emily

That night we all piled round to Naomi's mum's house. It seems it was a secret plan of Cook and Naomi's to do something every Wednesday night so that we didn't get the midweek blues. I thought it was sweet of them. Tonight Naomi's mum was cooking dinner for all ten of us. Anthea was delighted cause it meant she could guzzle wine like there was no tomorrow, and she was allowed to smoke in the house. It seemed like pretty much anything was allowed in this house, as I watched Freddie quite openly start to roll up a spliff. I felt guilty that Mrs Campbell was doing all the cooking, so I wandered into the kitchen to see if I could help. She was singing to herself quite happily, as she beavered away over several pots and pans at once.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Mrs Campbell?" I offered.

She turned to me with a gorgeous beaming smile and a sparkle in her eyes. I could see where Naomi gets her good looks from, although the warm and sunny personality seems to have skipped a generation.

"Never been married, dear. Never will be. Call me Gina. Are you Emily or Katie?"

"I'm Emily."

"Lovely to meet you. Naomi's been telling me all about you. Singing your praises."

Has she?

"She's really excited about doing doubles with you. Says she's never clicked with anyone like that before."

Oh yeah. Doing doubles. The sodding trapeze of course. Why? What else did you think she might be telling her mum about you? Get a grip Emily.

"It's really nice of you to cook all of this food for us," I said. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

"She's used to it," came a voice from the doorway. Naomi, slouching, looking chilled. Looking like she's been to see Freddie. "She runs a café."

"Oh I'll have to come down and check it out," I said. Always trying to please. Always trying to fit in. "Where is it?"

"It's wherever it needs to be, love," replied Gina.

Naomi grinned at my confused face and came over, throwing a casual arm over my shoulder.

"It's a festival café," she told me. "The Tribal Fountain. Mum provides solace and nourishment to the stoned, the confused and the weary."

"So you can see why I have no problem catering for Naomi's little mob," laughed Gina.

"I think she actually considers it practice," said Naomi.

I looked between the two of them. At their easy banter, their relaxed demeanour. I looked at the way they seemed to be so in touch with each other through their shared experiences and their common ideals. And it made me jealous. It made me jealous, when all it brought to mind was my own mother, whose uptight face and forced joyless smile can never quite hide the fact that when she looks at me, the only thing she wishes for, is for me to be someone else. I felt a sudden pang in my chest and realised that I missed Katie. I'd hardly spoken to her that day, and suddenly I felt an overwhelming urge to connect. At least there's someone in my family who fucking understands me. Sort of. I left the Campbell women, and wandered back through to the living room, where everyone was chatting away casually apart from Effy, who was sitting in a corner with her legs drawn up against her body, and her arms around her knees seemingly obsessed with the lampshade, and Katie who was standing with her back to everyone, staring out of the window. My heart lurched out towards her. God I'm such a selfish tit. It's my fault that she's here amongst these strangers having just been dumped by her boyfriend. I should be there for her. I should be looking out for her, not whizzing off on some glory trip with my new best friend, getting high on new adventures and revelling in Anthea's praise. I went over to her and give her a great big Fitch hug from behind.

"Hey Sis," I said.

"Yo Bitch," she said mockingly, and then more softly. "When did you get all hardcore?"

My brain flashed involuntarily back to this afternoon's showing. Me and Naomi fucking bringing it. God it had felt good, it had felt good for about three hours afterwards. The washing powder gigs had never felt like that. Shit no, I'm supposed to be connecting with Katie.

"Did you like it?" I said. Bollocks, I couldn't even ask her something about herself? What's going on? It's always only ever been about Katie.

"No," she replied. I couldn't hide my emotions, and my face fell. She noticed it.

"Do you think I enjoyed watching my sister getting the shit kicked out of her by some mad woman?"

I hadn't thought of it like that.

"But," she admitted softly. "It was…..good."

"Well I did kinda win," I said trying to lighten the mood.

She looked me in the eyes before continuing.

"It was so good, it was scary. And not just because you both looked so convincing up there, but because of what you had. With her. You were brilliant Emily, and you weren't being brilliant with me. And I wanted to get jealous but I couldn't, because afterwards you just looked so fucking happy. How could I take that away from you?"

"I'm sorry, Katie. It was just…Anthea, you know…and…."

"Ems, you fucking loved it."

How could I deny it?

"I'm not going anywhere," I tried to reassure her. "I still love you. We're still us. We're still the Fabulous Fitch Twins."

"No," she replied. "Not here we're not. Here, we're Circus Abandon. We're abandoned women. You're free to chase your new adventure with abandon, and I'm just…."

"No fucking way, Katie," I said, pulling her tight into my arms again. "I am not going to abandon you."

I pulled back but left my hands around her neck, forcing her to look into my eyes so that she knew I meant it. It was then that I heard that click of a shutter and turned round to see Effy pointing an expensive looking SLR camera right at us. What the fuck?

"Did you just take our fucking picture?" I yelled, livid at her for intruding on our private moment. She visibly shrank at the sound of my voice.

"Whoa there, easy Tiger," said Anthea firmly. "Effy like to takes pictures. It helps her to stay calm. You should let her take some rehearsal shots, she's actually really good."

Calm? What did Effy need to stay calm for? She's so calm, she's practically catatonic.

"Leave it, Ems." I felt Katie's hand on my wrist, pulling me back away from confrontation.

"Are you going to be OK?" I asked her quietly.

"_We're_ going to be OK," she nodded. "We're both going to be OK. I came here for you Ems. I know you weren't happy. I'm not stupid, I know you need more than…'wafting the fuck around on cunting silks'. I don't want you to feel like you have to hold back because of me."

"You neither," I said. "That thing you did with Effy was lovely. You really looked like you were in love with Miss Congeniality over there."

Katie burst out laughing.

"Well you're obviously not the only Fitch with stellar acting ability," she smiled. "I know you don't really want to smack the crap out of Naomi."

I just smirked back at her.

"I mean, I might want to," she laughed again. "If she steals you away from me too much."

I fucking love you Katie Fitch.

"Grub's up," announced Gina, bringing in huge bowls of steaming food from the kitchen. We all just helped ourselves and everyone slouched around on the sofas, cushions and even on the floor, drinking beer or wine, and talking with their mouths full. I caught Katie's eye and I knew exactly what she was thinking. It was so ridiculously different from dinner at our parent's house, sitting stiffly round the gleaming six-seater table, trying to grind out a conversation that didn't end in a slanging match. Plus the fact that although Gina's food was all vegetarian, and undoubtedly wholesome, it was actually edible.

"Jesus Emily, is that your third helping?" scoffed Naomi, as I plonked myself back down beside her on a beanbag.

"It's delicious," I replied. "Besides, I've got to keep my strength up."

"Yeah, but I'm the poor sod that has to lift you. You're half my size and you've eaten three times as much."

"I have a fast metabolism."

"More like a fat belly."

"Watch yourself Campbell," I threatened her jokingly. "Don't forget who it was who smacked you down on that trapeze this afternoon."

"That was choreographed," she said scornfully. "There's no way you could take me."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," interjected JJ. "After today I reckon Emily's definitely in touch with the dark side of the Force"

"I wouldn't take her on," laughed Freddie.

"Yeah well that would involve standing up, wouldn't it" said Naomi sarcastically.

"I reckon she'd be like one of them little terrier dogs that can totally fight bigger dogs cause they're so fierce, and then they've got these jaws that won't let go and stuff," said Pandora. "You'd never get rid of her."

"My money's definitely on Little Red," agreed Anthea.

"What?" cried Naomi incredulously. "You're seriously all saying that I couldn't beat Emily in a fight?"

"Maybe we should put it to the test?" smiled Thomas.

"Oh we should definitely do that," agreed Cook enthusiastically. "And you should definitely be naked, and there should definitely be some kind of oils, and stuff."

"Oils?" I said, raising one eyebrow at Cook, and desperately trying to suppress the thought of oily naked Naomi.

"Yeah," he said, closing his eyes dreamily. "And stuff…"

Oh now there were just way too many visuals whizzing round in all the brains in the room, including mine. I had to put a stop to it, especially before Anthea decided she wanted to include it in the show. Naomi beat me to it.

"Isn't anyone going to back me up?" she moaned, looking over towards Katie before deciding that was a no hoper.

"Mum?"

"I'm a pacifist, dear," said Gina. "Don't get me involved."

There was only one person left. "Effy?"

Everyone looked towards her. Effy picked up her camera and took a picture, first of Naomi, and then one of me. She looked back at both of them before speaking directly to Naomi.

"You have all the attitude," she said. "But Emily....Emily has killer instinct."

Well that shut everyone up. Killer instinct? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Katie was the first one to break the silence.

"Well look at you, Ems. Everyone here thinks you're a total badass. I guess going out with a South London drug dealer is starting to rub off on you."

Here we go again. Cook's face lit up in delight.

"You're shagging a drug dealer?" he said happily.

"She's not a drug dealer," I sighed, silently cursing Katie and her florid imagination. "She runs a club in London Bridge."

"Same thing isn't it?" said Cook. "Can you get us some good gear?"

"No, it's not the same thing," I scolded him. "But, yeah….what did you have in mind?"

I loved the way that Cook was looking at me right then, like I was the coolest person on Earth. Shayna wasn't a dealer, but drugs were certainly in her orbit. I met her when Katie and I were performing at a night at her club. We'd done the silks, and some stilts and a bit of UV poi, and finally we could start to relax. Club gigs can be fun, if it's a good club and you're into the music. Sometimes they're a nightmare, and the worst thing is that at least one of you has to stay straight for the whole night, so that you can de-rig your equipment afterwards. That night it was me. Katie had buggered off as soon as we'd finished, pleading that she had to spend the night with Brian before he disappeared to Holland for a week. I had danced for a bit, and chatted to a few people who'd seen the show, but I'd eventually found myself lurking by the bar, desperately wishing I could either go home or get shit-faced. Then I saw her. Proper South London Princess. Mixed race, straightened hair, cut-off top revealing the delicious curve of her belly, masses of bling and a take no prisoners attitude. She was gorgeous. She looked me right in the eye and started walking over to me. I was paralysed.

"Cool show," she said. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'd love to," I managed to choke out, "but I have to stay sober to de-rig."

"Shame," she said. "Well why don't you come up to my office so I can pay you?"

Her honey-dripped voice made it sound like she was offering to pay me in sex. Oh God, I'd let her pay me in sex. I could work something out with Katie later. I followed her up the stairs, my eyes glued to her magnificent ass as it swayed from side to side in her tight black jeans. When we got to her office she walked up to an enormous fridge in the corner and extracted a bottle of very expensive looking champagne.

"Sure I can't tempt you?" she said.

"Maybe just the one glass," I whispered.

I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have let her tempt me into that second glass either, or the line of coke she offered me after that.

"I really have to stop now," I told her, as she made to refill my glass for the third time. She just laughed, and it took every ounce of willpower in my body not to throw myself at her and beg her to fuck me. She took the empty glass from my hand, and pulled me closer to her.

"Why don't I get one of the boys to take it down in the morning, and then _you_ can relax and have some fun?"

The course of history has contained so many great ideas; the wheel, hair straighteners, Einstein's theory of relativity. But of all the great ideas that have grace the minds of humanity throughout the ages, that last idea of Shayna's was, to my mind, the most magnificent idea in all of creation.

"Fuck yeah," I said, closing the gap between us and pulling her into a kiss.

After that it was all temptation. More champagne, more lines of coke. She fucked me on the couch in her office, before we bombed some MDMA and went back down to the dance floor. Suddenly this club was the most beautiful place in the world as this fucking sexy woman pushed her hips pushed into my ass as we danced. It was seven in the morning before we got back to her place, but we just kept going; champagne, vodka, coke and shit loads of sex. More MDMA and more sex. It was fucking awesome. We shagged in every room in her flat, forgot to eat, and forgot about the existence of clothes. Forgot about fucking everything. Forgot who the fuck we were. We must have fallen asleep at some point on Sunday night, but God knows when, because time had become a nonsense, which could only be measured by the rhythm of our fucking.

When I woke up in that strange bed on Monday morning I was surprised by what I found. Shayna's brown eyes were looking into mine and her hand was delicately stroking my hair. As soon as I was fully awake, she pulled me close into her arms and just held me. I wasn't complaining, but I sure as hell was confused. I'd had no expectations, I was sure that this kinda of drug-fuelled sexathon was just a regular Saturday night thing for her, every week a different girl, or guy or whatever she was into. She had the whole cool as fuck club owning thing going on for her, it can't have been hard for her to pull. Yet here she was, wanting cuddles. I stayed for the next two days, until Katie's voice yelling down the phone at me for missing a training session, dragged me back to reality. Shayna asked if she could see me again. Of course I said yes. I have to admit that a large part of the attraction of being with her is that she's so fucking cool, she makes me seem cool by default. Cook's eyes were telling me that right now. Emily Fitch, you're so fucking cool.

"What can you get, babe?" he asked me.

I merely shrugged as if to say 'anything you want'. God, my stature in Cook's eyes was growing by the second. Until Naomi slapped him round the back of the head.

"We're in the middle of rehearsals, you fucksplash," she told him.

"Yeah, but we have got to have a first night party," he complained.

"After which we've got a matinee, and another show in the evening," she said, whacking him round the head again.

"Jesus Naoms," he moaned, but he knew she was right. They had too much riding on this to fuck it up by getting munted. "Alright then, post show party," he conceded.

I winked at him conspiratorially, to let him know that I'd sort him out. God I loved my new badass Bristol personality. And James Cook loved it too.


	7. 7 Breakdown

**A/N Hello there. A big huge thanks to everyone who has been reading this story, and extra cheers for those of you who have been commenting. Now that I've got you all nicely hooked it's time for me to say those fateful words - 'I'm going away for a bit'. Not to Cyprus, and not by myself. But as a lot of you have probably sussed out by now (no prizes for guessing), I am a circus girl, and my arm has healed enough for me to return to my own people!! No dangling sadly, it'll be a while before I'm allowed to climb stuff again, but I will be on the road with a tent. I'm gonna carry on writing this cause I love it, but the updating might get a little sketchy cause I'll be living in my truck and 24 hour internet will be as a distant dream to me. So you might get a bit of a gap and then get several chapters at once. You guys have been my lifeline whilst I've been injured so maximum respect for that.**

**I'm off to Belgium, land of excellent beer, chocolate and lady tennis players. Feel the love, and I'll get to you when I can.**

**Hypes xx**

7. Breakdown

Naomi

"Oh fuck me backwards with a big banana," yelled Pandora angrily from the other side of the room.

"What's up Panda?" I asked her, struggling to raise my head from where I'd been lying crashed out on a warm up mat. I was so fucking tired.

"I've only gone and torn the scab of that rope burn," she told me. "Now it's gonna go all pussy and gooey again."

"You're just gonna have to use your other leg," I said, dragging myself up onto my elbows.

"I know. I just don't like it. It makes me feel all on the wonk"

Pandora has been perfecting this rather impressive death slide, where she turns herself into an upside down crucifix on the rope, and hurtles down from the very top of the rig, stopping with her head only inches from the floor. It still gets me every time, and I know she can do it. She's been getting faster and faster, and of course Anthea's been encouraging her. The only problem is that the other day she went so fast, that the friction from the rope on the side of her calf burnt right through the fabric of her leggings, and deep into her skin. It took her about ten seconds or so for the pain to hit after the rush of the slide, then the air went blue with Panda's idiosyncratic brand of swearing. I went to check out the wound. It wasn't a pretty sight.

We are half way through the dreaded Week Three, the last week we'll have in the rehearsal space before moving things out into the tent. Week Three is the week when everything cocks up. It always the same. Whether you're in a rehearsal process or on a training course, Week Three is always a bitch. You're still excited from the newness of whatever you're doing, but you haven't built up the match fitness you'll get to when you start running the show. Everyone gets tired, but still pushes themselves, cause nobody wants to lag behind. And that's when you start to slip, and people start picking up injuries. Cook's wrist is playing him up again. Katie's pulled a muscle in her back. Freddie twatted poor JJ in the balls with a club. Emily has the hint of a black eye from when we got our timing wrong and I actually smacked her in the face during our fight scene. How I've escaped so far is a mystery to me, but I know I am just an accident waiting to happen. Cook and I are doing our best to look after people, to make sure they get what they need, to make sure we all get through this fucking stupid week in one piece. But it's hard. We just don't get any time off. After rehearsals, lunch times, weekends are just filled with all the other stuff we have to sort out. There's just so much to do. We try to delegate, but there's only so much the others can do. At the end of the day, the responsibility lies with us. We've never tried to put on such an ambitious show before whilst still trying to perform in it ourselves, and it's wearing us out. Next time I'm definitely writing a stage manager into the funding bid. I reach into my bag and chuck a pot of ointment over towards Pandora. It's made by a herbalist friend of Mum's, and although I know it's just cobbled together from things she finds in hedgerows, it really seems to work. That's about as much as I can manage, before sinking my head back down onto the mat to steal a few more precious moments of rest before the onslaught. I am so fucking tired.

But I don't care. Every night as I collapse onto my bed at Mum's house I have an enormous satisfied smile on my face. I fucking love this shit. I'm getting knots in my stomach about what we're making here. Our show is called Breakdown, and it's a story of a society that falls apart in the wake of an environmental disaster. What? We're Circus Abandon, you weren't really expecting tits and sequins were you? There's nothing like a bit of Climate Change apocalypse to give you free reign to knock out some kick ass circus theatre, whilst making a political point. I have to restrain Cook from making it all go a bit Mad Max, but luckily I have Anthea to help me with that. I love the drunken, foul-mouthed, chain-smoking ass off that woman. She's bringing out the best in all of us. She has dragged Freds and JJ out of their little juggler bubble and really started to integrate what they can do into the ensemble work. She encourages Panda's mad ideas to the very limits of possibility, but stops her before she actually kills herself. She has been pushing mine and Emily's characters, daring us to go further, stopping us from being afraid. But perhaps the biggest revelation is what she's drawn out of Katie. Freed from prettiness and precision, Katie Fitch is as funny as fuck. She's an incredible natural clown and her comedy timing is impeccable. Katie roars through the piece, and can undermine any of us with just the raise of an eyebrow or a turn of her head. She is blossoming. Thomas has been coming up with some amazing stuff for the soundscape, blending found noises and tracks that he's written into a work of art that alternatively seduces and pummels your ears. Somewhere along the line he managed to make some kind of connection with Effy, and came up with the idea of using projections of her photographs onto the set. Turns out she's got an extensive back catalogue of amazing images, which they have mined as well as using shots that she's taking as we work. The effect is stunning even on the wall of the rehearsal space, it's gonna be fucking awesome in the tent. Effy may be weird, but there's no denying she's talented.

Of course it means that she and her bloody camera are doing even more creepy ninja lurking than before, but we were all getting used to it. That is until she got in the way of a tired, ratty and probably pre-menstrual Katie Fitch.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you fucking psycho mental mong basket?" shrieked Katie. "I'm trying to fucking practice!!"

Though I don't suspect any of us would have been particularly happy to be on the receiving end of Katie in full on nuclear attack mode, nobody was expecting what happened next. Effy screamed and fell backwards, scrambling away from Katie as if she'd looked into the jaws of hell itself. Her eyes were terrified, and she was mumbling nonsense as she backed herself into the wall. Having nowhere else to go, she covered her head up with her arms and squirmed, repeating 'I'm not listening, I'm not listening' over and over again. The next thing I saw was Katie being hurled out of Anthea's path as she rushed over to comfort her daughter. She cradled Effy's fragile body into her arms and held her close.

"It's going to be alright, baby," she said. "It's going to be alright. There's no one here. It's just Katie.'

The rest of us just watched in stunned silence for several minutes, until the tension finally started to ease from Effy's body. Eventually, she took her hands away from her head, but her eyes still looked haunted. Katie looked mortified.

"Are you going to be OK, sweetheart," said Anthea gently.

Effy just nodded.

"Do you want to go outside for a bit?"

Effy nodded again.

"Who do you want to go with?"

"Panda," said Effy. Her normally alluring voice just sounded tiny and lost.

"You're not going to try and run away, are you?" asked Anthea.

Effy shook her head.

"Pandora, get over here," said Anthea. "I need you to look after Effy for a bit."

"What do I do?" said Panda, rushing over to help the stricken girl.

"Just take her outside for a smoke. Hold her hand, give her a cuddle if she needs it, and don't let her go anywhere."

Pandora stretched out her hand and helped Effy up to standing, before gently leading her out of the building. Anthea drew herself up to her full height and took and deep breath before turning round. We all had an idea what was coming, and it wasn't going to be pretty. I swear I saw Katie start to shake.

"Katie Fucking Fitch," said Anthea in a controlled, but extremely scary fashion. "We do not use pejorative terms for mental illness in front of Effy. Do you have any idea what that kind of language can do to someone in a delicate state of mind?"

Katie shook her head staring at the floor like a naughty child. Emily tried to butt in to protect her twin.

"She didn't mean it, she was just…"

"Zip it, Red," threatened Anthea, cutting her off before turning her attention back to Katie. "If you broke your leg I wouldn't call you a spastic, would I?"

"No Anthea," said Katie. "I'm sorry."

"It's not me you need to apologise to."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know she was sick."

"She's been doing really well," conceded Anthea. "I thought she was going to be fine. She seemed to be really enjoying it here. Maybe she's just tired."

It seems that Week Three is just as hard on fragile minds as it is on fragile bodies. Anthea grabbed her fags and headed for the exit, whilst the rest just stood around like lemons, not knowing what to do next.

"I think that's time for a tea break then," announced Cook.

Later that evening me and Cook sat smoking with Anthea in the beer garden outside the pub. I noticed Anthea gazing over to where Effy sat with Pandora at the edge of a small pond. Pandora was talking animatedly, waving her arms around in her usual excitable manner. Effy remained silent as ever, but at least she was smiling again. The look in Anthea's eyes was one of pure burning love. I was fascinated. I'd never seen that side of her before.

"How's she doing?" I asked her.

"I think she's going to be OK," replied Anthea. "Pandora seems to have a positive effect on her."

"Pandapops has a positive effect on everyone," grinned Cook. "She might spend most of her time in an alternative reality, but it's a happy one"

"Maybe that's why they can understand each other," sighed Anthea.

"What's...?" I caught myself before I said 'what's _wrong_ with Effy, and tried to choose my words more carefully. "What kind of problems does Effy have? If she's going to be in our rehearsals, I think we have a right to know."

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought her…" said Anthea. "I wonder if Tony could take her?"

"Nah, nah, nah," said Cook. "She's part of the tribe now. We just need to know how to look after her, so we don't hurt her again."

Anthea looked over at me for confirmation of Cook's acceptance. I nodded in what I hoped was an encouraging fashion.

"Effy had a breakdown when she was seventeen," said Anthea. "They told us it was psychosis, possibly triggered by excessive drug use. Apparently if a mind is susceptible to it, then that can tip them over the edge, and Effy was never one for moderation. She began to have hallucinations, started hearing voices in her head. At its worst she was barely functioning outside of her alternate reality. She tried to kill herself a couple of times, even threw herself a farewell party. After that she spent three years in and out of hospital, before we finally felt she was on the road to recovery. Ever since then she comes and goes. Sometimes she will be fine, even managing to hold down a job for a while. Then all of a sudden, she'll drift off again, and I have to fight to get her back. I do it every time though. If I have to do it a hundred times, I will. Effy is special.

Before she hit the world she was this fire, heating every bit of me. So intense, it burned. I think I knew even then she was going to be remarkable. When I held her for the first time, oh man, it was like holding this beautiful bomb. The energy, you know…even then it scared me."

I looked over towards the pond, and watched Effy watching Panda. She is always watching. Maybe one day she just saw too much.

"I thought being here was good for her. It's been giving her something to focus on. She seemed happier somehow," continues Anthea. "But I never know what's lurking beneath the surface. Sometimes she just gets so scared."

"To be fair, I think an angry Katie Fitch would be pretty scary whatever reality you might be in," I said.

Cook glared at me, but Anthea saw the funny side. She laughed, and drained the rest of her wine, reverting to her more practiced personality.

"Well I don't know about you two, but I need another fucking drink."

She got up to go to the bar, and Cook followed her in, but I couldn't even be bothered to move. The wave of fatigue crashed over me again and I let my head fall forward into my arms on top of the table. I wanted to sleep for a week, but the thoughts kept whirring round in my head, so many things demanding attention from me. These were logical everyday things forcing their way my brain, and I couldn't stop them. I wondered what it must be like for Effy, to be invaded by terrifying thoughts and images that made no sense.

"Are you ok?" came the sound of a beautiful deep husky voice. I smiled through my weariness. Now there was an invasion that would never be unwelcome. I fucking loved that voice. I dragged my head back up from the table and squinted at a concerned looking Emily. I thought about lying to her, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"I'm just so fucking exhausted," I admitted, trying to beat back the urge to cry.

"Fitch hug?" suggested Emily. "I promise you, they're legendary."

I'm not much of a hugger. I put up with it from Cook because you have to really, don't you? I'm not much of a touchy feely person at all, but my defences were down. I have this tiny woman's arms and legs squeezed tightly round me every day. What the hell harm could it do? I reached out a hand and she pulled me up to standing. I all but fell into her arms. She wasn't wrong, it felt fucking good. The maelstrom of thoughts that had been running rampage through my head began to subside until all I could feel was the quiet, strong affection emanating from the other girl.

"Do you want to go back inside?" she asked me, after what could be deemed an appropriate interval.

"Not really," I replied, not wanting to leave the sanctuary of her arms. "Can we just stay like this for a bit?"

"Yeah we can," she assured me. "For a bit."

**So there you go. I simply had to use Anthea's 'Beautiful Bomb' speech from S4 Ep5, cause I thought it was so beautiful, and moving. Peace, art and love from your very own circus freak :-) xx**


	8. 8 The Invisible Boyfriend

I don't own Skins, I just like it

8. The Invisible Boyfriend

Emily

It must be a good omen. Our first day outside, and it was glorious sunshine. The local council have let us use a site in a park on the outskirts of Bristol, and we're going to rehearse here for three weeks, before performing a few shows at the end of the run. It's exciting. It feels like being in a proper circus now. Living on site and working in the tent. At least it will do once we get the thing up. Katie and I are sharing a caravan that Cook got for us. It's just a regular beige caravan, which feels a bit boring compared to the rest of the vehicles on site. Naomi has a beautiful blue horsebox truck, with a small motif of flames painted above each wheel. She's kitted it all out herself with everything you would need for living out on the road, and it's got her personality stamped all over it, a hint of hippy with a touch of class. It's not just a place to sleep, it's a home. Cook has one of those awesome silver bullet shaped American Airstream vintage caravans, and though it looks (and smells) a bit like a bachelor pad inside, the exterior is just gorgeous. JJ has a fairly regular looking motor home which he keeps incredibly tidy and organised, making sure the chaos of the circus does not intrude into his private space. Freddie's battered old red Mercedes van is the complete opposite of course, looking as if it could barely make it ten miles down the road without bits dropping off it. Pandora and Thomas share a converted coach, which is pink, and covered with large daisies painted by Panda's own fair hand. The inside is mostly covered in fun fur and velvet, making it look like a weird cross between a playroom and a boudoir. Anthea and Effy are staying in another caravan borrowed off a mate of Freddie's for rehearsals. There's another huge truck that carries the tent, which Cook drives whilst Naomi pulls his caravan. We all got here this morning, parked up around the back of where the tent was going to be, and started work on the unload. By the time we broke for lunch, we had managed to get the two main kingpoles that hold the tent up, upright and in place, and the canvas for the roof spread out ready to haul it up once we'd eaten.

Katie, Effy, Pandora and I were all sitting in a line on a park bench, drinking tea and eating sandwiches, watching Cook with his shirt off hammering a stake into the ground with a sledgehammer. It was quite a sight to behold. Cook's upper body was amazing. He was so strong, nothing but muscle and tattoo, and it all moved so beautifully as he worked. I don't think any of us actually wanted to sleep with him. Between the four of us we were psychotic, heartbroken, loved up and gay, but I don't think any of us were above sneaking a crafty peek. A small white van drew up on the edge of the site, and a guy I didn't recognize got out, distracting Cook and interrupting our show. He was wearing red and black stripey trousers, and a white shirt with colourful braces. He looked vaguely old school circussy, but he didn't look like one of us. Cook went over and shook his hand.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"That's Justin," replied Pandora. "Naomi's boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he's a street performer."

"Boyfriend?" I repeated stupidly, and three sets of eyes turned curiously towards me.

"She never mentioned him," I said.

Why? Why had she never mentioned him? We'd been spending a hell of a lot of time together. We'd talked. I thought we were becoming good friends. I'd told her about Shayna. How come she'd never thought to bring up her boyfriend?

"Weird, huh?" said Effy, raising her eyebrows oh so slightly in my direction.

"It's one of her feminist things, I think," explained Pandora, trying to remember Naomi's quote. "'The patriarchal model requires that we all pair up and become the property of the spouse.' She doesn't want to be defined by her relationships apparently."

Ok, well that sounded like Naomi. I can't imagine her being owned by anyone. I turned my attention to the somewhat nondescript man on the other side of the field. I didn't get it. Naomi was such a firebrand, she was gorgeous. Surely she could have anyone she wanted? Justin was just so…. Even from a distance, the way he held himself was… There wasn't anything… Well there just wasn't enough.

"There's not much to him, is there" I declared, sharing my ridiculous snap judgement with the girls. To my surprise, they agreed.

"No."

"Not much."

"Nah."

Katie looked him up and down.

"You just wouldn't, would ya?" she said scathingly.

"Well I obviously wouldn't," I said.

"What? Surf and turf with Justin?" laughed Pandora. "No way, my Tommo's way more lush."

Effy didn't need to say anything. As ever, her look pretty much said it all. Oblivious to the almighty bitchfest taking place on the park bench, Naomi emerged from her truck, and walked over towards her boyfriend. Boyfriend? It still sounded weird. She kissed him briefly on the lips. Very briefly. Somehow it just didn't sit right. They didn't fit. Fuck's sake Emily, why are you obsessing over this? You haven't even met the guy. He's probably really lovely. Still I just couldn't shake the feeling that she deserved better. I heard the sound of the fake shutter noise on Effy's digital camera beside me. Here we go. Let's see what the Voice of the Oracle makes of all this.

"She doesn't love him," said Effy.

I smiled. She has to be right, yeah? Effy's always right. So why did that suddenly make me feel so happy?"

"She has another far more important lover," continued Effy, shattering my inappropriate euphoria.

"What? Who?" I spluttered.

"This," replied Effy, making a sweeping gesture to encompass the tent, the vehicles and all of us. "Naomi's first love is her circus. She doesn't want a visible boyfriend. She wants to get what she needs with minimal interference. She doesn't want someone who makes an impact on her."

Wow. I had never been too sure about Effy before I learned about her illness. She had always seemed just that little bit too unbearably smug. That was when she wasn't looking at you so hard, you were afraid she might suck the life out of you. Those cultures that believed that if someone took a photograph of you they stole a part of your soul would have run away screaming if they'd ever encountered Effy. But now it seems that all those idiosyncrasies are the only way she has of protecting herself. I was suddenly reminded of all those legends from the Classics, where the Seers are cursed with madness, and wondered if Effy's troubles were the price she had to pay for her gift.

"Thanks Eff," I said, squeezing her hand, before standing up and taking leave of my sisterhood of bitches. I wasn't quite sure what I was thanking her for, but then again, she probably did. I made my way over to Naomi and Justin. I wanted to know more about this invisible boyfriend. As I approached, despite my best efforts to be open minded, my first impressions merely solidified. He wasn't good looking, but he wasn't ugly either. He wasn't charismatic, but then he didn't just look like a tosser either. He was just average. What the fuck was she doing with him? Jesus Emily, could you at least try to be a little less judgemental? But then again I've always formed very strong first impressions of people. I think somehow we can see more of people in those first few seconds than we give ourselves credit for. I mean science only understands a tiny percentage of how the brain works, and I think we have access to perceptions that we have no way of explaining. How else do you account for Effy? From experience, I have learned to trust my instincts too. Even though I never spoke to her, I just knew somehow that Naomi was special from that first time I saw her on the cloudswing. And it wasn't just the skills. She had something about her that no one else in that room had. And now I get to share some of that energy with her. Jesus, I'm so fucking glad I met Cook at that convention. It's one of the very few times in my life that having some guy perving on me has led to something good.

"Emily!"

Her face lights up as she sees me coming towards them. Take that Invisible Boyfriend.

"This is Justin," she says nonchalantly. "He's come to help out."

And he's my boyfriend? No? Naomi says nothing more, so Justin stretches his hand out towards me.

"Nice to meet you Emily," he says. "I've been hearing lots about you."

Really? Cause I've heard fucking nothing about you. I smile, but not out of any genuine friendliness towards Justin. I keep hearing Effy's voice replaying in my head, 'She doesn't love him.'

"Are you going to be coming along to rehearsals?" I asked him.

"No, I'm just here to help with the tent today," he replied. "I think I'd rather wait and see the show for real."

My smile grows to epic proportions. Oh you're gonna see a show, mate. You are gonna see a fucking show. My mind drifts back to the rawness, the energy, the fire that burns between me and Naomi when we're in the air. It's powerful, it's passionate, it's intimate. There's nothing average about that. I make an impact. I'm the one that fucking matters.

"For fuck's sake Emily. Stop thrashing about over there," said Katie. "Some of us want to get some sleep, even if you don't."

Katie and I used to share a room when we lived with Mum and Dad, but this caravan was the first time we had shared a space since I left home to live with my girlfriend in a fit of righteous gayness at the age of seventeen. It wasn't going too well. I can't exactly blame Katie, it was me that couldn't settle. The rest of the day had gone smoothly enough. We'd managed to get the tent up and the seating in. It had been fun, working hard and working as a team, though I dare say I'd feel differently if it had been pissing with rain and blowing a gale all day. There was so much to learn, and normally I love learning, but that afternoon I was just way too distracted. Though I tried to focus one my tasks, I kept pulling an Effy and spent half my time staring at Justin and Naomi, watching for more clues as to the nature of their relationship. It wasn't terribly fruitful. If I hadn't been told about it, I would hardly have guessed they were a couple. I know not everyone is into PDAs, but there were scarcely any shared looks between them and even fewer touches. Maybe they had been together a long time and the honeymoon period was well and truly over. Or maybe it was a secret affair and nobody was supposed to know, in which case why tell Panda? Maybe I was an idiot for obsessing about something that was none of my business. Naomi was perfectly entitled to a private life, emphasis on the _private_.

It was just so unlike me and Shayna. We were a very public couple. She just loved having me on her arm and showing me off. Whenever she introduced me to someone, it was never just as her girlfriend. It was always 'my beautiful girlfriend' or 'my amazing lover' or 'this is my Emily, she's an aerialist'. She revelled in the 'she must be very bendy' jokes and was constantly touching and kissing me. As if she was saying to the world, 'See how pretty and exotic she is. Look what I can get.' OK, so occasionally I felt more like a trophy than a girlfriend, but I couldn't exactly complain. With her I was no longer the awkward geeky twin of my youth. After all the shit I dealt with from my mother when I came out, my own message to the world was, 'See how cool I am. I can make this totally hardcore woman adore me.'

Naomi on the other hand didn't need to prove to anyone how cool and desirable she was. I'm sure she didn't give a fuck about what anyone else thought of her. She was, quite simply, one of the most amazing women that I'd ever met. Talented, focussed, creative, intelligent, beautiful. She was remarkable. So what the hell was the deal with Justin? He seemed like her polar opposite – unremarkable, average, boring. We had all eaten dinner together that night and I had tried to make the effort for Naomi, I really had. But Justin and me were like matter and antimatter; we just weren't supposed to meet. There was no spark. There was no connection between us at all. I didn't like his voice. I didn't like his hair. I didn't like his clothes. I didn't like his fucking face. I couldn't find anything to be interested in about him. Even Freddie was a thrill a minute guy next to Justin 'Black Hole' Watts.

So there I was at one in the morning still losing sleep over it. I suddenly felt the overwhelming urge for a cigarette. I didn't have any, but I got up anyway. I wondered if Naomi was still up, cause she was bound to have one. I abandoned my caravan leaving Katie in peace and wandered over towards Naomi's truck. The lights were still on - result. But as I got closer I noticed that the truck was rocking slightly on its suspension. And then I heard the sound that hit me like a slap in the face. UNF – the universal noise of fucking. Oh sweet shitting Jesus, they were SHAGGING! I can't for the life of me work out why I didn't just leave, but I just stood there listening. _Listening_, like some fucking weirdo pervert. Listening to the sound of heterosexual shagging. WHAT? But then I realised that I was listening out for her. I could hear Justin grunting away just fine, but I couldn't hear a squeak from her. I wanted to know how it was for her. To be honest, it didn't sound that great. Maybe she just wasn't a screamer. I've heard that some women aren't. Not something I've experienced that much, but we are talking Emily Fitch here.

_Bet I could make her scream._ The thought slammed into my head. Followed immediately by visions of Naomi writhing beneath me, her hips bucking against my fingers, her eyes begging me to fuck her harder and her voice screaming my name as she comes.

Oh shit.

I fled the scene of the crime, and not really knowing where else to go I snuck into the tent. This was why I was here, I forced myself to remember. To make a good show, to do good art. I looked up at our trapeze hanging down from the rigging bar. _Our_ trapeze. Our place. The place where we shared such intimacy. The place that nobody could take away from us. Except me. By being a fuckwit. By coming on too strong to my partner, my _straight_ partner, scaring her off and cocking up everything we'd worked for. I thought about the two of us together up there, the energy, the passion, the connection. No, it was too good. I didn't think I could stand to lose something so precious. This insane infatuation had to stop right now. What was I thinking? I have a girlfriend. A gorgeous, rich, visible girlfriend who knows how to make me swear and gasp and call out her name at her touch.

I resolved to push any kind of sexual thoughts towards Naomi deep deep down into my subconscious. I spent the next ten minutes trying to put that resolve into practice. But I discovered there was a devil living in my soul that kept implanting unbidden voices in my head.

_She doesn't love him._

_I bet you could rock that truck right off its axles._

_I bet you could make her scream._


	9. 9 Naked

**A/N Cheers for all the love people. It's nice to be missed. Well the weather is atrocious in Brussels. All the better for staying in my truck writing stories. Here's the next bit. Love from the circus, Hypes xx**

9. Naked

Naomi

God it felt good to be back in the tent again. Start of a new season, start of a new show. Summer's coming and we are back on the road. There's still loads of work to be done, but now I'm starting to get nervous, and excited. This morning we had been working with our choreographer Maxxie. He had been helping us with the movement linking the circus routines, making sure that we weren't just stringing a bunch of acts together but making the whole show into a coherent whole. He and Anthea got on like a house on fire, and soon they were plotting between themselves and bringing even more dance into the show. It wasn't too much of a chore though, Maxxie was so easy to work with, and so great at improving everyone's confidence on the ground, that he even had the most awkward of us moving around with presence and conviction. Of course it didn't help that in a fantasy sequence where we all had to waltz together that he had paired me up with Emily. We were supposed to be gazing into our partners eyes as if they were the most beautiful person in the world – not much acting required there then, but as my hand rested on her hip as we twirled, it took every ounce of my strength and self control not to slide it down over her ass and pull her closer so we were dancing groin to groin. Or to stop myself wishing that she would wrap both her arms around my neck, and draw me in till I could feel her hot breath on my neck. It was a beautiful and haunting scene, and Thomas's music for it was heart-achingly lovely, but after nearly a whole morning of dancing with the delicious redhead, it was extremely hard to maintain my composure when all I wanted to do was drag Emily back to my truck and get her naked. Bad Naomi.

Thankfully, Maxxie finally called a halt to my suffering and they moved onto a brand new scene. It seems that he and Anthea had been hatching an evil scheme last night once they had discovered the beautiful surprise that is dancing Cook. Despite his hardman image, Cook is a fantastic dancer. I tell you that boy's ass in motion is a joy and a wonder to behold. Clearly Anthea and Maxxie thought the same as they had devised a whole new scene just to get the chance to showcase it. The rest of us took the chance to take a break or to practice our own shit whilst they worked on it, but eventually Anthea called us all back in to take a look. It was set at a point in the show when our world has descended into violent chaos. Cook's character wakes up alone, devastated and hopeless. He has done and witnessed savage things in the fight to survive. He has lost all hope, and he is losing touch with his humanity when he comes across a boombox lost in the rubble. He fishes it out and presses play. A cheesy disco track comes on – 'Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel', but for this man it is a lifeline, a reminder of the man he used to be. He nods his head to the music, and then slowly he starts to dance. Hesitant and uncertain at first, he then realises that there is nobody around to watch him. He does not have to worry about seeming vulnerable, and he lets the music take over his body, and uses the dance to reclaim the soul he'd thought he'd lost. He finds a freedom and a hope that had all but been destroyed, and it becomes the turning point for the show where, some of the characters start to fight to salvage their human dignity.

I'm sure I must have had my mouth hanging open as I watched him dance. This was my best mate, the guy I had known for years. It was Cook, the fucking wild-hearted nutcase with the filthy mind. The guy I got mashed with and got into trouble with. Just a lad. Just another stupid lad. Yet here he was, and he almost had me on the brink of tears. As the dance progressed he started to bring in acrobatic and parkour moves, becoming more and more energetic, until he was flinging himself around the set with complete and exultant abandon. God, it was beautiful. And it was so fucking right, between them they had turned this ridiculous disco song into an anthem for all humanity. This was the shit. This is what we were paying Anthea for. I looked across to see both her and Maxxie watching Cook wide-eyed with stupid grins on their faces. It looked like the pair of them were in serious danger of compromising their professional dignity. Ok, so it was turning out that misplaced lust was the central force behind the creative energy of this show, but what the hell? It appeared to be working. The track ended uncertainly as they hadn't yet devised how to run it into the next scene, and Cook stood centre stage grinning like an idiot, as to a man and a woman we got to our feet clapping and yelling our approval. All except for Anthea.

"That was great, Cook," she said pensively. "Except now you need to do it naked."

"Naked?" said Cook, raising his eyebrows.

I struggled to contain my laughter. Anthea, you enormous perv. Of course, being Anthea, she had an extremely convincing artistic reason for wanting to see Cook in all his glory. And I'm sure Maxxie would be more than willing to back her up.

"The very fabric of society has been ripped apart," said Anthea. "This man at this point represents all of us. He is at the tipping point of returning to an animalistic state, and yet he is also at his most vulnerable. If we strip him of everything that connects him to what makes him a man, then it becomes all the more powerful when the music brings his soul back from the dead."

Nicely put, Anthea. Almost had me convinced for a second there.

"So naked then?" asked Cook.

"Yes," replied Anthea, fixing him with her steely glare.

"You mean like now?"

"Why not? That is what rehearsals are for. Practice."

"Ok," shrugged Cook, starting to undress. He'd never really had much of a problem with nudity. His or anyone else's. A series of knowing looks started to shoot between the original members of the troupe. We all knew what was coming next. The others were in for a surprise. Cook dropped and stepped out of his trousers, and stood in the middle of the tent, arms spread out to the side, revealing himself to the world. Anthea took one look and burst out into hysterical laughter.

"That is the most ridiculous cock I have ever seen," she said.

To be clear, it wasn't Cook's penis itself that she found so ridiculous. It was the fact that all the way around his cock and his ass, Cook had the most hideous tattoo. If it wasn't bad enough that he had a representation of a woman giving him head all over his genitals, it was made worse by the fact that the drawing itself was utter shit. I'm sure tattooists have to pass all kinds of regulations for hygiene and health and safety bollocks, but someone appears to have forgotten that it might be an idea to actually make sure that they can draw. I'm sure it seemed a fabulous idea at the time to a horny little sixteen year old Cook, but on a grown man? Anthea was right, it was ridiculous. I checked on the reactions of the other new girls on the block. Emily and Katie were just frozen with their eyes wide in shock, but Effy had whipped that camera of hers out faster than a gunslinger at the OK corral.

"Ok, put your pants back on," Anthea managed to squeeze out eventually. It must have been hard for her because she was practically crying with laughter.

"But I thought you wanted to see little Cookie dance," said Cook.

"Seriously Cook," said Anthea, wiping the tears from her eyes. "This is the most poignant moment of the show. A moment of pivotal beauty, when every hope and every dream we have ever had as an intelligent species is encapsulated in those few minutes of your characters journey. I want my audience to be struggling to restrain the raging floods of emotion in their hearts, not pissing themselves with laughter cause you let someone who failed their GCSE in Art vomit ink all over your cock."

She looked over towards Maxxie and shrugged.

"I guess we're going to have to make do with him topless."

Later that evening I was walking over to Cook's caravan, to talk about budgets and see if we could afford to hire Maxxie for another day. I found him standing outside his door pouring a pint of cold water over his head.

"What the fuck you doing?" I asked him.

"Giving myself a cold shower," he grinned with his dirtiest sex grin slapped across his face.

I rolled my eyes and didn't dignify him with an answer, merely giving him the Campbell stare until he confessed what sordid state his unfettered mind had gotten him into now.

"Have you seen Emilio's bird, man?" he asked me. "She is seriously fucking hot."

Oh shit, Shayna. With all the naked Cook drama earlier I had forgotten Emily's girlfriend was coming to visit.

"What kind of person comes to visit on a Monday night?" I said scornfully.

"The kind of person who runs a club, and has to work all weekend," said Cook, as though I was stupid.

"Yeah, well if she's that hot you might have to pour that water over your dick" I snarled back at him.

"Don't think it would work. The term 'smokin' hot bitches' was invented for those two sexy ladies. They're just both so fine I might have to go and have myself a little alone time thinking about them making monkey."

Cook waggled his tongue and made a crude gesture with his hands, and I don't know what the fuck happened, but I just lost it. The next thing I knew he was staring at me clutching his cheek with a look of complete shock in his eyes. I had slapped him round the face. Hard. Why the fuck would I do that? I had known Cook long enough, and I was more than used to his filthy mouth, but I just couldn't stand him talking about Emily like that. Thing is I knew he liked her. I knew he actually cared about her. With good reason too, I mean she was amazing. And beautiful. Perhaps all the laddish talk was his way of covering up the fact that he was jealous.

"Sorry mate," I apologised. "I don't know why I did that."

"Don't ya?" he replied, looking back over my shoulder. "Someone's got their hands all over your girl."

"She's not…" I started to deny him, but as I turned round I was silenced when my stomach clenched tighter than a heavyweight boxer's fist. Walking towards us laughing and smiling together were Emily and the grade A fox that could only be Shayna. Shayna had her arm draped possessively round Emily's shoulders and their hips synched perfectly together as they walked. Emily smiled warmly as she introduced us.

"Naomi, huh?" said Shayna. "So you're the chick that's been throwing my girl around in mid air."

Everything about her oozed attitude and confidence, and fuck me she was gorgeous. But even though we chatted for several minutes, all I could think of the whole time was how much I wanted to tear her hands away from Emily, from _my_ Emily. My attempted denial to Cook was a complete fucking lie. Yes, it was me. I was the one who was fucking jealous. No-one else should be touching my Emily like that. Not even her girlfriend.

Her girlfriend, Naomi. Yes, remember that. I forced myself to look back at them. It wasn't a one-way street. Emily was touching her back. There was love and lust and affection in their gazes. It was real. They were in a relationship. I couldn't fuck with that. And even if I tried, why the hell would Emily want to give up this woman for me anyway? I was lucky to have the time I did have with Ems, surely not even I could be stupid enough to throw that away. I couldn't compete with Shayna, and I had to work the whole summer with her girl. If I fucked it up, I wouldn't just be losing a friend and a trapeze partner, I would be cocking up the whole of my fucking show. Not just letting myself down, but Cook and the whole of the rest of the gang. If we lost Emily, no doubt we'd lose Katie too. I had to get over myself. Whatever this thing was I'd convinced myself I had with Emily had to be unceremoniously crushed. But how? The lovers had wandered off as Emily wanted to give Shayna the tour, but when they had stopped by the door of the tent to share a deep and lustful kiss, I simply stopped breathing. I felt like someone had repeatedly stabbed me in the chest and punctured both my lungs. The kiss went on and on, lips and tongues and hands beginning to wander. Every fibre of my being ached for Emily to kiss me like that. It was at the same time the most beautiful and the most terrible thing I had ever seen. Just as I began to think I would never breath again, a piercing voice brought me gasping to my senses.

"Which one of you fuckers is going to give me a bed for the night?"

Thanks heavens for Katie Fucking Fitch.

"Haven't you got a bed already?" asked Cook.

"Oh please," scoffed Katie. "I am so moving out of that caravan while Shayna's here. You might want JJ to get his decibel meter out, cause those two will definitely be breaking sound regulations. If there was an Olympic classification for noisy fucking, then they would be on the national squad. Trust me, there will be shagging, and you do not want to be anywhere near them when that happens."

Too right Katie. I think I'd rather be on another planet.

"You can bunk in with me Katiekins," offered Cook. "How could I refuse a girl made homeless cause her sister's a sex monster?"

I looked back over towards the small redheaded sex monster and her rich, attractive, confident girlfriend. Shayna's hand strayed over Emily's breast, causing her to gasp and pull her lover into another one of those epic kisses. I just couldn't take anymore.

"Have my truck, Katie," I said. "I need to go back to the office, so I think I'll just stay at Mum's."

"Brilliant," said Katie enthusiastically. "I get to stay in top truck."

I smiled, at least someone was profiting from my misery.

Of course I didn't sleep that night. Lay awake for hours, naked and alone in my childhood bed. My arms were wrapped around a pillow, as my fevered brain filled itself with thoughts of Emily wrapped around my body. Trusting me, putting herself completely in my hands, our physical connection the only thing that was keeping her safe. In the air she was all mine, nobody could touch us, but was that enough? Oh God, it had to be. My mind wandered to Cook's scene from earlier that day. That was me. I had been stripped bare of everything that mattered to me. I was naked and vulnerable and standing at the tipping point of being taken over by my destructive animal urges, but I couldn't let myself go. I had to find my way back to redemption. I lay there wondering how the hell I was going to make it through the next day with alpha female Shayna aggressively defending her territory. My art would be my salvation. It always had been and it wouldn't fail me now. The show was God. The show was all that mattered. I would dance, and swing and fly my way back to reclaim my battered soul.


	10. 10 Showtime

**A/N Glad to be able to get this to ya. I trashed my laptop yesterday so a third of the screen doesn't work. But by making the windows really small I discovered I could soldier on. For you my lovely readers, for you. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I had to visit some fond memories of being in the air with a seriously hot girl for inspiration.**

**Believe the Hypes. Enjoy xx**

10. Showtime

Emily

How did this happen? It seemed like all I did was blink, and the last weeks of rehearsals disappeared. And now here we were, standing outside the back of the tent, listening to the chattering of the audience as they made their way in. Had I unexpectedly happened upon a fold in the space-time continuum? Cause in about five minutes I had to go out there and perform in front of a full house, when all my inner voices were screaming 'I'm not ready, I'm not sodding ready.' I don't normally suffer from stage fright, but tonight I was bricking it. It seemed like I wasn't the only one, as I looked at the rest of the troupe desperately trying to calm their nerves in whatever way they could manage. Naomi and Cook were smoking profusely, JJ and Freddie were compulsively twirling objects in their hands, Katie was pacing and Pandora was doing some kind of crazy dance to the inner beat in her head. And what did I do? I just watched Naomi. It was strange because she was the reason I was so nervous in the first place. I know how much hard work she had put into making this show, not just in rehearsals, but also in all the long hard months before that. Devising the concept, writing funding applications, booking the tour, planning out budgets. Endless hours of phone calls, emails, admin and accounting all leading to this very moment. I know how much she believed in it. I know how much it mattered to her. And because it mattered to her, it mattered to me too. I was terrified that I would somehow fuck it up, that I wasn't good enough, that I didn't deserve the faith that she and Cook had shown in me. But then again just looking at her beautiful face calmed me down and made me happy. For her, I would make myself strong enough, I would make myself good enough. I would give everything I had, just to make her dream come true.

Naomi stubbed out her cigarette, and looked over at me and smiled. In that moment every doubt I had disappeared. I was convinced that in the blink that had been the last few weeks, we had all worked like crazy, above and beyond the call of duty. Fighting long hours and battered bodies with a determination born of true conviction. The hardest thing for me of course was trying to keep my fucking hands to myself. Sometimes it was virtually impossible, there were so many things about her I found utterly irresistible. Any one of her mannerisms could bring a smile to my lips and a flutter to my heart. In the air it was easy, we had our focus, and that was the one time when touching her in all sorts of ways was not only allowable, it was actually required. It was unbelievably sexy working with her, and I'm sure if she knew half the things I was thinking when I had my thighs squeezed around her body, she would have run away in panic. On the ground it was excruciating. I wanted to touch her all the time. I wanted to hold her hand, put my arms around her or run my hand down her back, and I often had to physically prevent myself from doing so. Every day was a constant effort at wilful resistance. Shayna was no bloody use, she hadn't made it back to visit me after that first time and I had become a boiling bloody mass of sexual frustration, not helped by constant intimate exposure to the goddess like Naomi Campbell. The beautiful woman that I couldn't have.

Naomi was still looking at me and I couldn't prevent myself from going over to her. I was just going to wish her luck for the show. That would be ok, right? As I approached she stretched out both of her arms towards me.

"Any chance of one of them Fitch hugs?" she asked me. "Cause I could fucking use one right about now."

How could I refuse? I squeezed her tight and rested my head upon her shoulder. The rest of the world melted away, and I wanted to stay in that hug forever. Ok, so that's a lie. There were plenty of other things I wanted to do with Naomi that didn't involve hugging, but none of them involved letting her go. Thankfully before my mind could travel too far in that direction, we were interrupted by the arrival of Anthea. She gathered us all into a group circle.

"Six weeks ago you were just a bunch of losers with a stupid idea," she said. "Now you're like a fucking SWAT team of art. Those people out there should be feeling fucking lucky they are going to get the chance to see your work. Go out there and fucking slaughter them. Don't hold back, I want to see you giving everything you've got. Make me proud children. Make me fucking proud."

And with that she swept off back into the tent. It was time. I felt Naomi squeeze my hand, and she winked at me before turning her attention out to the full group.

"What do I want to see, children?" she said, in a remarkably accurate impression of Anthea.

"Sex, blood, aggression and violence! Sex, blood, aggression and violence!" we all chanted back at her in unison, before breaking out of the circle laughing.

Right then. Here we fucking go.

The first scene was an ensemble piece with everyone one stage depicting the machinations of a normal day. Katie and I were on silks whilst the others were moving around on the set, which consisted of different layers of platforms and aluminium bars that could be swung and danced and climbed upon. Suspended from the ceiling were all manner of everyday objects that Katie and I interacted with as we climbed and manipulated ourselves in and around our fabrics. Phones, saucepans, cups of tea, a laptop, a shoe - all became objects for our play. Anthea had undermined the typical presentation of silks as something graceful and beautiful and extraordinary, by having us perform it as if it were just a part of everyday life; this is how we get to work, this is how we live. When we did the splits, a huge signature move in this discipline, Katie performed it with an enormous sigh and whipped out a copy of Heat magazine, as if she were stuck on a particularly tedious tube journey. She got an enormous laugh. I permitted myself a sneaky glance across at her and she was totally in the moment, shedding all her previous airs and graces and looking bloody fantastic for it. I was so proud of my sister right then. She had taken an enormous gamble for my sake by coming here, but she had grown and she was shining for it.

Last time we had timed the show in the dress it had run at an hour and twenty minutes. I must have hit that space-time fold again because the fucking thing flew by and by the time we had reached the end I felt I had hardly been on stage for ten. Although I could barely remember getting through the rest of the show, the overwhelming majority of those ten minutes seemed to consist of the doubles trapeze. I could remember every second of that in glorious detail. The texture of Naomi's wrist bandages as my hands grasped tightly round her arms. The feel of the air against my face at points of falling before she saved me. The rage in her eyes as she acted as if she hated me. The taste of the stage blood in my mouth. The sound of our hands slapping together as we made a catch. The taste of salt on her skin as I pretended to bite her in the fight. The sound of the audience gasping. The feel of Naomi's strong muscles tensing around me as she executed a particularly strenuous move. The smell of her perfume mixed with that of the rosin on our hands. The feeling that all the air had been sucked out of the tent as the audience held their breath. The electric surge of their shock, and the feeling of power it gave me, as I knew we had them in our hands. Every secret squeeze and signal she gave me to call the next transition or catch. The fact that even though it looked as though we were trying to kill each other, I knew we were in this together. That I could quite literally trust her with my life. As we hit the final sequence of big tricks, and we threw ourselves into a dazzling display of skill, I knew our audience were not just looking at bodies in space. I knew they were with us too. Naomi span me and threw me and caught me, and it was the best fucking feeling I'd had in my life. The best fucking feeling EVER. I knew then that I loved this woman, this fiery tempered passionate blonde who took me to places that no-one else could ever dream of. I loved her. The final thing I remember was the exquisite softness of her lips as I pulled myself back up for the final kiss of the routine. I was lucky I only had the strength to hold myself up there for so long, otherwise I don't think I would ever have had the will to pull away. I had performed that kiss dozens of times before, but this time it was different. This time I knew that I loved her.

And now we had reached the final moments of the show. The tent was filled with the smell of burning paraffin as the cast engaged in a riotous firefight around the set whilst Naomi swung above us on her cloudswing. I could feel my heart start to beat faster as she started to wrap her feet for her final throwout. The move was to be an attempt to save Cook from the excesses of the fire-wielding mob, but she was too late. As she threw herself into space, Katie and Freddie threw him down from the top platform of the set. He executed an amazing twist and turn in space before he landed, but they followed him down and set upon him. But I only had eyes for Naomi. Luckily I was supposed to be watching her because of what came next, but just for a second I was pulled away from the present as I remembered the first time I had seen her do that trick. The first time she had tried it. And I realised that that was the moment I had fallen in love with her, even if it had taken me until now to admit it.

I dragged my attention back into the now. Cook's character was dying in Naomi's arms. She was shaking and crying as she held him. I know she was only acting, but it still cut me up to see her like that. Fuck Ems, come on, this is your moment. Our factions had been at each other's throats throughout most of the piece, but I hadn't been able to kill her before, and I wasn't able to kill her now. Various fire props were still burning around the set, and the others stood still as I slowly started to approach Naomi and Cook. Naomi was on her knees, still holding dead Cook and I had decided to end the war. I said nothing, my last action to simply place a hand on her shoulder. The audience waited silently for her reaction. Would she continue the fight or accept my offer of a truce. Naomi was awesome, she held them for as long as she could. A projection faded up onto the back screen of amazing photographs Effy had taken of each of our faces. One by one the individual faces snapped out, until the only ones left were me and Naomi. Without looking at me she finally made her move. Slowly she let go of Cook with one hand, raised it up, and placed it on top of mine. A second after the moment of impact, Thomas snapped everything to black.

For a few seconds the audience remained in stunned silence, before bursting into feverish applause. The lights went up and we took our bows as first relief and then an ecstatic rush flooded through my body. People were cheering, some of them were whistling, some of them had gotten to their feet. There's a big circus scene in Bristol, and I knew that a lot of performers were there as well as the Arts Council officer who had given us the money. But the applause went on for ages and we had to do two curtain calls. I looked across at Naomi as we stood there soaking up the adulation. I had never seen her look so happy as she did at that moment, it was like she was fucking glowing. My heart felt like a pounding Kung Fu fist trying to smash it's way out of my rib cage. We filed from the stage for the final time and everyone burst out into an excitable chatter, hugging and exchanging high fives. Cook picked up Naomi and whirled her round and round shouting 'I fucking love you, man.' Know what you mean, Cook. We spilled out of the back of the tent and continued with our mutual congratulations. The first person I went to was Katie. I held her in a fearsome Fitch hug and told her she was the best sister in the world, every argument we'd ever had forgotten in our moment of triumph. Then I made my way round the others, but I saved the best till last. She was waiting for me. We didn't shriek or high five or jump into a hug, we just looked at each other trying to stop our smirks widening into the cheesiest of grins. I didn't know what to say to her. I didn't know what words I could use that would even begin to describe the torrent of emotions I was drowning in right then. I guess she was having the same problem, cause her piercing blue eyes simply stared back into mine as we ignored the cacophony surrounding us. Eventually she broke the silence.

"Thanks Ems," she said quietly. "I couldn't have done it without you."

_She_ was thanking _me_? I couldn't fucking believe it.

"You were fucking amazing," I blurted out.

Jesus, I sounded like a sodding fan girl.

"So were you," she smiled.

She pulled me slowly into her arms and held me, ignoring the sweat that still coated our bodies from the show. She gently kissed the top of my head.

"I fucking love you, Emilio man," she said imitating Cook.

"I fucking love you too, Blondie," I said, copying the imitation, and masking the true depth of my feelings with humour.

I could have stayed in her embrace all night, but she pulled away. She had to go and greet her public. We all got changed out of costume and went back into the tent where loads of people were still waiting for us. Cook brought out a case of champagne and we all drank a toast to the show. I couldn't get near to Naomi for ages as all her mates and the Arts Council woman were all clamouring to talk to her. She must have be a head the size of a planet from all the compliments that were being thrown at her. I didn't care though, she deserved every one of them. The night turned into a little bit of a party for the people who were still there, although Naomi had been very clear in her warning that I wasn't to dish out any of Shayna's drugs until tomorrow night. It was cool, though, I was having a good time.I milled about meeting loads of Cook and Naomi's Bristol circus mates, and getting a fair few compliments myself. A very drunken and slightly wobbly Anthea grabbed me at one point, nearly choking me as she dragged me off to meet a producer friend of hers.

"This my little redhead fucking superstar," she slurred. "She might be the size of a tiny kitten, but she's got bigger balls than Mike Tyson."

I wasn't too chuffed with the imagery, but I took the compliment all the same. Anthea was a genius, and she thought I was a star. The producer seemed to agree with her, and he started talking to me about the show in fine detail. To my shame I found myself zoning out. I'd only had a little bit of champagne, but combined with the release of tension and the adrenalin of the show it had gone straight to my head. My eyes kept scanning the room for the one person I really wanted to be with. Finally I found her, surrounded by a posse of first year students from the local circus school who were hanging on her every word. Her eyes caught mine and she sent me a look that said 'rescue me'. I needed no encouragement to be her knight in shining armour. Making my excuses to Anthea and the producer, I pulled Naomi away from her admirers towards one of the aisles, hoping for a little bit of privacy.

"Nice one, Ems," she said putting her hand on my upper arm. It was a struggle not to flinch at her touch. Her hand felt like it was made from molten lava, searing it's way into my skin. I looked up and into her eyes, desperately wishing the volcano that was Naomi to erupt and consume me completely.

"Good show, ladies," a smooth male voice interrupted the moment. I turned towards the owner in irritation. Could we not be left alone for a fucking second? I found myself staring up into a pair of intense blue eyes that looked disarmingly similar to Effy's. It took me a moment to clock that Effy was standing beside the handsome owner of the voice.

"This is Tony, my brother," she announced. "Another spawn of Anthea."

"Glad you liked it," said Naomi, resuming her professional charm. "Anything in particular stand out for you?"

"You really need to ask?" he said with a smirk that echoed his sister's. He looked both me and Naomi up and down, before leaning towards us and saying in an exaggerated whisper.

"Tell me, was that a doubles trapeze routine or was it just foreplay?"

"No!" sputtered Naomi in shock, and I was quick to join her.

"No."

"We're not.."

"Together."

"We're just mates."

"And obviously we work together."

"It's just a professional relationship."

"Yeah, it's professional."

We batted the ball of our denials rapidly between us, not daring to look each other in the eye.

"Whatever," grinned Tony, not looking like he believed us for a second. "It was still fucking sexy."

"No Shayna tonight?" said Effy.

Oh please God, Effy. Not now.

"She has the club. She had to work," I replied, trying to make light of the fact that my fucking girlfriend couldn't be bothered to come to my opening night.

"And no Justin?"

Shut the fuck up, Effy. Shut the fuck up.

"He had a show tonight," shrugged Naomi. "He's coming tomorrow."

Tony smirked, and Effy raised an eyebrow. Again images from classical mythology raced into my brain. Was Anthea one of those mortals who had consorted with the gods? Cause there was something freakishly supernatural about her children.

"We'll leave you to it," said Effy, taking Tony by the hand and pulling him away. Was she really trying to tell us that this was our opportunity? If it was, we bottled it. Both of us were staring at the floor. For the first time it felt awkward between us.

"Well I should…" said Naomi, indicating back towards the party.

"Yeah," I said, and let her go.

That's how much I loved her. I fucking let her go.


	11. 11 Safe

**A/N Hello again. I must admit I was totally blown away by the reaction to the last chapter. So a huge thank you to everyone who read, commented or threatened to fly to Belgium with a new laptop for me. I'm also chuffed that this story is making people interested in the circus. There are contemporary circus companies all over the world that do make this kind of work, so fly my pretties, seek and ye shall find.**

**Here's the next chapter. Enjoy. And keep sharing the love xx**

**I don't own Skins, I just like it.**

**Hypes.**

11. Safe

Naomi

I fucking hate matinees. They are the work of the devil. No self-respecting artist should be made to endure them. When I am Empress of the World (and yes, I do frequently envision a world where everything is laid out to the satisfaction of Naomi Campbell), matinees will be banned. That and beards, seafood and Celine Dion records. I aim to be harsh but fair in my tyranny. Well maybe not even fair, I think that hot girls that want to sleep with Emily Fitch would have to be added to my list of autocratic prohibitions. Though from the sounds of things I would have to set aside a fairly sizable island to send them all to. After I ran away from the object of my desires last night I somehow managed to get myself cornered by a slightly tipsy Katie Fitch, who after she told me that she loved me and I was her fucking best mate, began to regale me with tales of Emily's sexual adventures. It would seem that the younger Fitch had some magical hold over the female population. That her special powers could reduce any grown woman to a quivering wreck of lust and desire. Thanks Katie, but I already knew that, for the evidence was burning away in my own heart. Emily could completely destroy me, and she wasn't even trying.

Even in the sodding matinee. It's just so much harder to focus your energy in the afternoon, night shows are just so much edgier. But from the moment my eyes locked with Emily's at the start of our antipathy in the show, I felt her drag me up several gears in one go. She is such a magnetic performer, and she always commits completely. As soon as she is onstage you find your eyes are drawn to her, and not just my lust soaked eyes either. I've talked with Anthea about her, and she's not one to give praise when it's not earned. She doesn't even have to do that much. Despite all her amazing skills, that girl could walk onstage and pick her nose, and look like a champion. Emily has power. I know from talking to her about her past that it's something that she has had to fight for, but now she has found it, she uses it without compromise. Perhaps that's what attracts all those women to her. Perhaps that's what has me scared like a rabbit in the headlights, paralysed and unable to move in the glare of her halogen beam. Until I get onstage with her, and then I am released. She frees me to become better than I have ever been, to make stronger work than I have ever achieved before. Together we can amplify that power and create something irresistible. As we stood backstage waiting for our doubles scene, Emily was already in character, psyching herself up for her entrance. I suddenly thought about what Effy's brother had said last night, but instead of scaring me like it had before, now it spurred me on. Use it Naomi, I told myself. Take every fragment of your feelings towards her and put it into the performance. And so I did. When I launched myself into that space, I wanted to kill her, I wanted to fuck her, I wanted to tear her little heart out and hold it beating in my hand.

Ems picked up on it too, and she threw all my energy right back at me. It was electrifying. I almost had to suppress a laugh at how good it felt. I felt that all the hard times I had been through to get this circus together had been worth it, cause now I got to do this. With her. When I was in the air with her, I felt like I was a better performer, hell, I felt like I was a better person. On the ground, outside the tent, back in the real world the thought of needing someone like this was absolutely terrifying. Up here, it was the only thing that made any kind of sense.

We carried our lust and fury into the rest of the show, right up until the final scene when Cook's death finally broke down our barriers. I actually heard someone gasp as she touched my shoulder, that simple act of affection reaching them as much as any of the big tricks. Holy shit, Em, could you _get_ any better? When the lights went out and the audience started to roar, I squeezed her hand for a moment in the darkness. _We_ did this, I wanted to tell her. We did this together.

After we had changed out of our costumes, Anthea called us back into the tent to give us her final notes on our performances. She was leaving before the evening show as she was flying over to Ireland to start work on another project. She started going through the show scene by scene, making suggestions and comments to fine tune the performances, but when she got to our trapeze, she just stopped and laughed.

"Alright you two, out with it," she said, fixing me and Ems with that special Stonem glare. "What were you on?"

"Nothing," stuttered Emily

"We wouldn't do that," I said, backing her up.

Anthea broke into a huge grin.

"You girls were on fucking fire," she announced. "Whatever is making that happen, I wish I could fucking bottle it. You have no idea how many performers I would love to slap round the head and bring to watch you two. Whatever happens, don't let it slide, cause you are the engine of this show. You're the powerhouse that everyone else feeds off."

Emily and I looked at each other sheepishly. I didn't know what to say. Fortunately Anthea just resumed her notes, whilst Ems and I became rooted to our notepads, writing down everything she said in an attempt to cover our embarrassment.

"Well that's that," announced Anthea once she had covered the finale. "One last thing. Red, Blondie, what are you doing on the tenth of June?"

I mentally ran over our tour schedule.

"We'll be putting the tent up in Bradford," I replied.

"No you won't," said Anthea firmly. "The other's will have to manage without you. I'm putting on a showcase night called Cabaret Extreme, and you are going to perform your doubles."

I looked at Cook hopelessly. It didn't seem like Anthea was giving us a choice.

"Logistically it shouldn't be a problem," said JJ. "We can easily manage the tent with six people. As long as they are back for the show the next night, which is easily achievable even allowing for an overnight stay in London. Though I suggest the train would be the most efficient form of transport to achieve this."

"Well that's settled then," said Anthea. "If Mr Logic says it can be done, then it shall be done."

Cook said nothing, but I got the impression he was uncomfortable with the idea, though I didn't know why. JJ was right, it could easily be done. I had heard of Anthea's cabaret before, and I knew it was extremely prestigious. I also knew that me and Ems could nail it. Hell, I knew we could throw that bitch against the wall and screw its fucking brains out.

Anthea started going round the group and hugging us all. It was my cue to go and get the presents and card we had got her. Though suddenly they didn't seem nearly enough to express the depth of my gratitude towards her. She really had turned us from a bunch of hippies and misfits into a crack performing team, and I hoped we could manage to keep it up without her. That was my job now, but I wasn't afraid. I had my secret weapon, the other half of the engine. I looked over to see Anthea looking like she was trying to squeeze the life out of Emily.

"Stay hungry, Little Red," I heard her say. "I don't want to ever see you lose that passion."

Me neither, Anthea. Me neither.

"Effy, darling, where are you? It's time to go," called Anthea, finally tearing herself away from my Fabulous Fitch. I knew exactly where to look. Effy had a favourite corner of the seating bank that seemed to have become her safe space. There she was, with her camera out, photographing the goodbyes. Anthea followed my gaze.

"There you are," she said gently. "Come on sweetheart, we're going home. Have you packed?"

"No," replied Effy.

"Ok," replied Anthea. "Well let me come and help you. Tony's going to look after you whilst I'm in Ireland."

"I don't want to go to Tony's," said Effy, refusing to move.

"Well you can stay at home and he can look after you there."

"I don't want to go home."

"Right," said Anthea patiently. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't want to go anywhere," said Effy. It was the most forceful I had ever heard her. "I want to stay here."

"Sweetheart, nobody's staying here. These guys will be taking the tent down and moving on."

"I want to go with them."

"That's not possible, Effy."

"Why not? You have to work. Tony has to work. I want to stay here. I'm calmer here. The voices are quieter here. I feel safe here. I'm not frightened of Katie any more."

Effy looked like she was trying to root herself into her special spot on the seating. I could tell Anthea was trying to not show that she was worried. It still amazed me that she could be so tough with us, and yet so very gentle with Effy. She took a deep breath and carried on.

"Effy love, I'm not sure you're ready to be here without someone to look after you."

"We'll look after her," interjected Cook. "That's what we do here."

He looked me in the eye, and I knew he was remembering the train wreck he was before he found me.

"Yeah, we'll make sure she's safe," another voice rang out. Fuck me. That was Katie Fitch.

"Effy's one of us now," agreed Pandora. "She's like our super special best friend. We'll make sure she has a whizzer time."

"See," said Effy. "They want me to stay."

I could see Anthea struggling to decide if she could trust us with her beautiful bomb, as we all agreed with Effy that we wanted her here.

"We all know how special Effy is," said Emily. "And we know we have to take extra special care of her, but I'm sure we can do it."

That seemed to swing it for Anthea. She seemed to have adopted Emily as an extra daughter, and obviously trusted her.

"Ok," she relented finally. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," insisted Effy, sounding as if she had never been more certain of anything in her life.

"Where will you live?" asked Anthea. "They have to give our caravan back, you know"

"I'll get a tent," shrugged Effy, unconcerned with the details as long as she could get what she wanted.

At the end of the day all Anthea wanted was for Effy to be well and happy, and if Effy genuinely thought she could achieve that with us, then she wasn't going to stand in her way.

"Make sure you call me at any time if you need me," said Anthea. "Any time at all."

Effy finally relinquished her safe spot, and ran down to embrace her mother.

"Guess that makes it official," grinned Cook.

"Not so fast Cookie Monster," said Anthea scathingly. "We need to go over a few ground rules first."

She grabbed me and Cook and pulled us away from the others.

"This is a serious responsibility," she told us. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Yes," I said with conviction. This was the perfect gift for me to repay Anthea. To give her beautiful but troubled daughter a place where she could feel safe.

"Ok," she replied. "But we will have no referring to her as mental, or a loony or anything else like that. And try to limit her intake of drugs, especially hallucinogenics, or anything with a high THC content."

Cook and I both nodded intently.

"Strong cannabis is particularly bad for her, so you'll have to keep her away from Harold and Kumar over there," continued Anthea, looking over in Freddie's direction.

"Consider it done, Anthea," I said.

She seemed to accept that and engaged in a final round of goodbye hugs, before packing her case into her car and driving away. We all stood outside the tent and waved her goodbye. When she was finally out of sight, Cook looked over at our newest refugee and rubbed his hands together.

"Right then, Crazy Effy," he said. "Fancy a spliff?"

Effy's smile was stellar.

Of course, he was joking. We had to get ready for another show. The party would have to wait until after that. The evening show was another triumph and I savoured every last moment of my time onstage with Ems. When it was done, all the cast and a whole bunch of mates piled back into the tent. Thomas cranked up the sound system, and I finally gave Emily permission to release the drugs. I don't remember much else about the rest of the night. For me it was such a massive relief to have gotten through the first gigs, and that everything I had worked so hard for seemed to be paying off. Before I realised it I was completely off my head. There are a few fuzzy memories. Pandora dancing topless to Lady Gaga on top of the set. Freddie and JJ having some kind of eating competition with my Garibaldis. Finding Cook shagging some girl under the seating bank. Engaging in some kind of wrestling match with Emily on the acro mats, cheered on by the whole party. Finding Cook shagging a different girl in his caravan. Losing the wrestling match with Emily. Effy had been right about her killer instinct. Remembering that my boyfriend was there before asking her for a naked rematch in my bed. Wishing that my boyfriend wasn't there so I _could_ ask her for a naked rematch in my bed. Hugging Effy as she sat in her special place drinking a can of beer. Tripping over a guy rope and just lying on my back looking at the stars, thinking about Emily's body wrapped around mine, defying gravity. Smiling at the knowledge that that was my special place. Feeling safe. And then nothing.


	12. 12 The Stoned, The Confused and The Wear

**A/N Hello to all of you out there who are reading, and welcome to the newcomers. Once again I have had some lovely reviews. I'm sorry I don't have the time to reply to everyone, but we are in the thick of rehearsals at the moment, and there is loads to do. Thought I would concentrate on writing this chapter by way of thanks instead.**

**Feel the love. Hypes xx**

12. The Stoned, The Confused and The Weary

Emily

So now we were out on the road for real. We had the tent up at a small boutique festival in Devon called Funktasia. It was only about six fields in total, a couple of band stages, a performance area, a green and healing field and various stalls and cafes. We were doing a few workshops in the day and the show at night. After the show there was still plenty of stuff going on, so we usually went out, trying not to get too trashed, especially as Katie and I had the early shift on the workshops. I'd kind of volunteered for that one cause I knew Naomi wouldn't be doing it. She's so crap in the mornings, but I guess one advantage of being the boss is that you get to decide the schedule. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with her. I just wanted to be with her too much.

What I thought was an infatuation that would soon pass once we got used to each other, was clearly a far more obstinate obsession. I was so confused. She just drew me to her on so many levels. Our working relationship was terrific. It made me feel guilty to admit it, but it was so much more vital than what I had had with Katie. Being onstage with Naomi was the most alive I had ever felt in my whole life. It was like an addiction, the more I had, the more I wanted. And it meant such a lot to me, I don't think I could live without it. But aside from that I really did just fucking like her. She was an amazing person, and we were already great friends. We just kind of worked. When I didn't allow myself to get distracted, she was incredibly easy to get on with. We believed in the same things, we had fun together and I could see us being friends way into the future. But then there was the lust. Sweet merciful heavens the lust. Every day she seemed to get more beautiful. Every day I would notice some new detail about her that would add to the magnificence of the whole. It could be the curl of her eyelashes, or the definition of her bicep, or the shape of her ankle, but everything kept adding up to the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

I was enchanted, and I didn't know what the fuck to do about it. The old Emily Fitch would have just plain gone ahead and seduced her, boyfriend or no boyfriend, but around Naomi Campbell I became helpless. I wanted her so much I could make myself wet just looking at her, but I loved her too. I didn't want to mess up the show, that was way too important to both of us. I didn't want to lose her friendship, cause the thought of not having her in my life was too painful to even contemplate. I didn't want to wreck her relationship, no matter how much I hated him. Truth is, I cared more about her than I did about myself. So if I had to consign myself to this torture in order to keep her happy, then that's what I would do. I tried to keep all the good things to the forefront, and tried to keep my evil desires to myself. God, the things I wanted to do to that girl would make a hooker blush. Fucking hell, Emily, you perv, you can't let your guard down even for a second. I started spending a lot more time with Katie, which was good. It was great to hang out and have fun with her, and for it not to be about training or work. And it made her feel I was making good on my promise not to abandon her. But behind my calm exterior, I was in chaos. Sometimes I just had to run away and find a safe place to hide with my tormented thoughts.

Ironically the place I found most comforting was the Tribal Fountain, Naomi's Mum's café. Gina always welcomed me with her beautiful smile, and gave me steaming cups of Earl Grey on the house. It became my piece of sanctuary, curled up on my favourite sofa and giving free reign to my fevered brain. It was Saturday lunchtime when I found myself there once more. We'd performed the show twice already, and the reaction was just as fantastic as it had been in Bristol. It seemed strangers were just as impressed as the friendly audience back in Bristol. I had just finished my morning workshop with Katie, and my feet had drawn me on automatic back to The Fountain. It was day three of the festival, and there were plenty of people in need of Gina's special magic. The stoned, the confused, and the weary. Well I certainly fit into the confused category. Gina wandered over and gave me a huge hug when she saw me, telling me she had just made the most fantastic batch of carrot and coriander soup, and I should definitely try some. I wondered if she knew even half of the filthy things I thought about her only daughter, she would throw me out on my ear and tell me never to darken her doorstep again. I didn't enlighten her, merely accepted my tea and my soup and headed for my favourite spot. Someone had beaten me to it. That would be the stoned accounted for.

"Hey Freds," I greeted the boy splayed out on my sofa.

"Hey Emily," he replied, scooting up to make room for me.

"How's it going?" I asked him.

"Oh, you know…" he shrugged in his usual laid-back manner.

Informative, Fredster. I swear that boy had weed for breakfast. If I smoked as much as he did, I'd be unconscious for most of the day, but Freddie was one of those people that seemed to function on it, after a fashion.

"So how you finding it, being part of our circus?" he asked me.

"I love it, Freds," I answered with genuine enthusiasm. "I love the life, I love the people, and I really love the show."

"Yeah, you and Naomi are well hardcore," he smiled.

"Well you and JJ are pretty bloody amazing too."

"Just not as pretty," he laughed.

"I dunno," I countered. "I reckon you're kinda pretty for a boy. Not that I'm much of an expert."

"You don't fool me, Emily Fitch. I've seen your little man crush on Cook."

"That's just window shopping. Like you'd admire a fine sculpture, or beautiful racehorse. Trust me, I'm never going to want to handle the merchandise."

"He likes you, you know."

"Yeah I do know. That was obvious the first time we met."

"How do you know, Emily?" he asked me, suddenly serious. "You know, if you like someone, but you're not quite sure if they like you back."

Oh Freddie. I'm in no position to be dispensing advice. I am a girl in serious turmoil. But this was a rare moment, Freddie opening up to me, so the least I could do was try to help.

"Like as in 'want to shag' like?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he agreed with a sheepish smirk.

"I don't know, why don't you get her trashed and see if she comes on to you?"

"I'm not sure that's allowed."

Oh my God. It's Effy.

"You like Effy," I told him.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked.

I merely shrugged, wanting to seem wise and mysterious, though I was an amateur compared to our otherworldly photographer.

"She's really beautiful," I said. "I'm not surprised you want to shag her."

"It's more than that," he protested. "I really like her. She's always staring at me."

"Freddie, she stares at everybody. It's what she does. Sometimes she feels disassociated from our reality. It's like she has to try extra hard to see us, but when she does she sees more than anybody."

"You're really clever, Ems. No wonder you get all the girls."

All except the one I really want, sweetheart. All except Naomi. A vision of my ravishing tormentress shot into my mind, and ripped out another piece of my heart. Laugh it off, Emily. Laugh it off.

"I'm not sure they're with me for my mind, Freddie."

"Must be your fabulous shagging technique then. I'll have to get a few tips off you."

"The Emily Fitch School of Sex," I giggled and the pair of us collapsed into laughter. It was nice to finally connect with Freddie. He might not be a livewire like some of the others in the group, but he was a sweet guy with a lot of goodness in his heart. We settled into an easy silence for a while, but there was something nagging at the back of my mind. I looked at my watch.

"Freddie, aren't you supposed to be doing a workshop right now?"

"Oh shit," he said, clambering to his feet. "Later Ems."

I watched him as he stumbled off through the café. Yeah, lovely fellah, but still a fucking stoner.

I collapsed back onto my sofa and closed my eyes, trying to picture Freddie and Effy together and wondering if it would ever work. I couldn't tell. I had no idea what kind of guys Effy was into.

"Was he talking to you about me?"

I swear I nearly jumped a foot into the air. When I opened my eyes, there she was perched on the arm of the sofa, staring at me with her Ninja Effy Death Glare.

"Jesus Effy, how do you do that? Ever considered a career in espionage?"

"Well, I do possess a lot of the necessary skills," she grinned. "Though I think a tenuous grip on reality might count against me at the interview."

"You could always lie to them," I countered. "They'd probably mark you up for that."

"So," she said, sliding down to sit next to me on the sofa. "Was he talking to you about me?"

"I could lie to you," I teased.

"What would be the point?"

Her blue eyes bored relentlessly into me, and I felt completely exposed. She was right, what would be the point. She would see right through me anyway.

"He really likes you."

"He's in love with me," she countered.

"If you already knew, then why did you ask me?"

"Human interaction. My therapist says it's good for me."

"So what about some other kind of human interaction? Do you feel anything for Freddie?"

I felt Effy stiffen beside me.

"I can't," she said. "He's too dangerous."

"Eff, it's Freddie McClair. He's the least dangerous guy I know."

"Not for me," she said quietly.

I held my breath, sensing that she was on the brink of revealing something about herself. I knew this was something Effy found virtually impossible to do, and I didn't want to scare her off with too many questions.

"I loved a guy like him once," she said. "And it drove me over the edge. I let all my defences down. I stopped protecting myself, cause I wanted to feel it. He made me want to feel everything. We went on this hedonistic spiral, drank vodka for breakfast, took every fucking drug we could find. I let go of every barrier, every inhibition. Told myself I was living wild and free, when all I was doing was anaesthetising myself so I couldn't see that I was hurtling towards the abyss. And I crashed over it, Emily. I fell so fucking hard. The demons I released were screaming, brutal furies and they wouldn't let me come back. I got so lost, and the noise in my head was terrifying. The only way I could think to make it stop was to stop everything. I thought if I was dead, then it would finally be quiet. But they wouldn't let me go, my family. They kept dragging me back for more torment. But then the doctors gave me a whole bunch of different drugs, and I started to see glimpses of hope. And Anthea, I could see her burning. So full of love. She pulled me back, she always pulls me back. And I can cope with her love, because she doesn't ask for anything back. But I look at Freddie, and all I can see is the boy who broke me. It's like a picture spreading out in front of me through time. If I let Freddie in, it will happen all over again, and I won't survive it. So I won't go back there, cause for the first time in years I really feel as if I've got something to live for. But I'm so tired, Ems. I'm just so fucking tired of being mental."

"You're not mental, Effy," I assured her.

"Yes I am," she smiled. "I know my Mum doesn't like anyone using that word, but I am sick. I've been sick for years. Every day I have to fight, and it's just fucking exhausting."

I suddenly felt like a complete tit, beating myself up over a few lust issues when this beautiful, talented girl had to work so hard just to stay alive. I pulled her into my arms and just held her for a long, long time. When she finally pulled away sending me a thank you from those daunting blue eyes, I went and got us some more tea. It wasn't much, but it was a small act of kindness in the wilderness. Solace for the weary.

"Do you ever think you'll be able to love again?" I asked. I couldn't bear the thought of her being lonely for the rest of her life.

"Maybe," she replied cautiously. "But not with Freddie, or anyone like him. I need someone strong. Someone who can love me without indulging me. Someone who is not afraid to call me out when I need it. Someone who can be my rock, and won't break when I do. Someone who won't let love destroy them."

"You make love sound like a weapon."

"In the wrong hands it can be."

"Does it always have to be so terrible?"

"I doubt it will be for you. You have a lion heart, Emily. But you have to be able to walk into the belly of the fire without flinching."

I opened my mouth to speak, to beg her to tell me more, but nothing came out. I had a hundred questions, and I wanted her to give me a thousand words to answer them. But as Effy stood up and walked away from me, all she gave me were two.

"Be brave."


	13. 13 Cabaret Extreme

**A/N I have struggled against my dying laptop to get this out to you before we go into tech week when the show really does become God. Might be a bit of a gap before the next one, so I hope you think it's a good one. Special dedication to LovelessNPrescott - whose review simply read MORE! here it is love....some more**

**Hypes xx**

13 Cabaret Extreme

Naomi

"Do you want to go all the way?"

When the most beautiful redhead in this and probably several other universes asks you that question, what other answer is there?

"Yes," I answered without hesitation.

"Wicked," replied Emily, whipping off her bra. "You're fucking amazing, Naomi."

"Not so bad yourself, bitch," I told her.

She turned around to face me topless, her face illuminated by the most evil sexy grin, and my world fell apart.

"Blood me, motherfucker," she said spreading her arms out to the side, giving me a perfect view of the most fabulous pair of tits I had ever seen in my life. How charmed was I, that in all the history of time and creation, from the Big Bang to the present day, I found myself witness to the most perfect arrangement of atoms, protons, neutrons and electrons, charms, quarks, muons, and vibrating strings the physical universe had seen fit to assemble in all of its vast and varied existence? I wanted to fall to my knees and worship at the altar of the Divine Breasts of Emily Fitch. Instead I blinked and tried not to stare. My hands were shaking as I fumbled with the cap of the bottle of stage blood, rendering it almost impossible to open.

"You know I don't think that's actually a childproof cap," she laughed as she snatched the bottle from my hands. "Come on, Campbell. Get 'em out for the girls."

We were in the dressing room at Cabaret Extreme, which was held in a railway arch somewhere underneath the approaches to London Bridge station. We had arrived in London yesterday lunchtime to rig and rehearse in the space, then that evening Anthea had taken us out to dinner in a fantastic restaurant in the shadow of Southwark Cathedral.

"Now then my lovelies," she said as we hit our third bottle of wine, most of the previous two having been demolished by Anthea. "My cabaret is a place where the performer can know no fear. My audience are prepared for anything, they want to be taken to the edge, and they want to be shoved over it, and they want to be kicked once they've fallen bloodied and broken onto the rocks below. Now I know your piece is fucking marvellous as it is, but if there's anything you felt like doing to take it further, then now's the time to do it."

She was goading us, I knew she was, but I also knew that there was no way on this earth that Emily would refuse the dare. I could already see her mind working on ways to increase the pressure. She started to open her mouth to run some ideas by Anthea.

"No, no darling," said the older woman. "I have to let the baby fly the nest sometime. I want you to surprise me the way you did that first day back in Bristol. I know you won't let me down, so I want to be able just to sit back and enjoy the beautiful devastation."

Beautiful devastation was what I was experiencing right then in that cramped and messy room we shared with some office furniture and the cleaning equipment. Somewhere in my peripheral vision a perfectly toned erotic performance artist walked by dressed in nothing but gold body glitter and some slices of ham, but she barely even registered. My focus was entirely absorbed by a flame-haired goddess with blood on her hands. Slowly I removed my top and my bra, drawing out the moment. She was going to touch me with those hands. Would that be the moment that I died? If so I would die happy, cause there was nothing I wanted more than for her to touch me with those hands. An end to third world debt, the global emancipation of women and world peace would all just have to take a back seat for a moment to a topless lesbian trapeze artist in ripped urban camo combats touching me with her soft bloody fingers. Emily smeared the thick red liquid across my belly, and for that brief moment, every particle across the whole of space and time seemed to vibrate to the same rhythm, each one of them screaming along with me 'Emily Fucking Fitch I need you right now!!"

It was the most erotic sensation I had ever experienced. My God, if I ever actually got to fuck this girl, I think my body might just explode on impact. She turned me round and raked her fingers down my naked back leaving five trails of blood as she went. She balled her hand into a fist a left an imprint of the liquid on my face. She grabbed me round the bicep to leave fingerprints on my arm. She poured more of the liquid into her hand and smeared it through my hair, dark red bleeding through my blonde. She stepped back and surveyed her handiwork.

"You look well fucked up," she smiled.

Oh I am so beyond fucked up, my love. I am queen of the fucking fucked up. All the other fucked up people in the world come to my door and worship at my fucked up feet. They hold fucked up banquets in my fucked up honour. They write fucked up songs about my fucked up life. I ride through their towns on a fucked up open top bus, because I am the fucked up champion of the fucked up fucking world.

"Do me," said Emily, chucking me the bottle of blood. I dropped it of course, my brain having shut down all functions apart from the ones imagining a thousand different scenarios in which I was doing Emily Fitch.

"Jesus Naomi, she giggled. "For someone who's so solid in the air, you're such a klutz sometimes."

She seemed so relaxed. I'm standing in front of her half naked and covered in blood, and she doesn't bat an eyelid. It's because she doesn't see you that way, I told myself. She sees you as a friend. That's why it doesn't bother her. The woman who can have any woman she wants, simply doesn't want you. She could have you in a heartbeat, but she doesn't fucking want you.

I picked up the fallen bottle at my feet. Ok Campbell, it may be fucking pervy, but take what you can get.

"Just how extreme do you wanna get?" I asked her.

"I want us to be kicking their bloodied lifeless bodies on the rocks" she replied.

"You asked for it, Fitch."

I poured the blood onto my own hands and slapped her round the face. I left my crimson handprint on her ass. I tipped the bottle against her skin and watched as the rivulets ran down across her perfect left tit. It was too much. I raised my hand and wiped the residue of blood right across her other breast. It was only the briefest of touches, but I swear I was only millseconds away from grabbing it hard, shoving her backwards and fucking her up against the photocopier, when an enormous hairy bearded bloke called Doug, who suspended himself by some of his many piercings as part of his act walked into the room.

"Hey Ladies," he said genially. "Looking forward to the act. Anthea says it kicks you in the nads."

"Hey Doug," smiled Emily.

If we were in France, I could have killed him and called it a crime of passion, but we were in Southwark and I would have had to have spent the rest of my life in prison without the woman whose perfect form had driven me to the brink of throwing my whole life away on the briefest glimmer of a chance that she would let me inside her.

We performed to Thomas's music now, but we still used the Linkin Park/Jay Z track to psyche ourselves up, sharing the headphones coming out of Emily's iPod and shouting, 'I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one' into each other's faces. We had finished the job on our make up, painting extravagant bruises onto each other, unfortunately sharing the space with Doug, Golden Ham Lady and five transexual Brazilian showgirls, so I was forced to take the erotic punishment of Emily's deft touches with the make up brush, without any chance of recourse. I thought I had been aroused before, I thought I had had good sex before, but nothing in my experience could come close to how I felt right then. There was nothing but pure passion raging through my veins. If I put even a tenth of these emotions into the performance, we would be the sharks in the water below the cliffs that ripped the bloodied bodies of the audience apart and devoured them. As we waited outside the main space ready to go on, I wrapped my arms around the body of my partner in crime from behind, and whispered in her ear.

"Do you trust me?"

"Absolutely," she replied. "With my life."

As soon as our music hit the right cue point, Emily launched herself into the space. We had rechoreographed the opening to be even more chaotic and violent than it was in the tent, using what we'd found in the space. We had prewarned a table that held a bunch of Emily's mates, and we crashed into it, Emily falling onto her back with me following her, holding her down and punching her in the face. She threw me off, and then chased me through the audience, grabbing my shredded vest top and ripping it clean off revealing my naked and bloodied torso. She smashed a chair into the wall in the space that I had ducked out of only seconds before. I pulled a knife on her and we fought, with her dodging my thrusts and grabbing random objects to fend me off, until I caught her and twisted one of her arms behind her back. We were both facing the audience and I held her trapped, as I used the knife to slit open her top, and expose her red-stained breasts. The audience gasped as they realised that the knife I had been using was real. I threw Emily forwards so I could pull off the remains of her top, and she span and with a perfectly placed high kick knocked the knife out of my hands and ran to the rope.

I followed her into the air and we continued our battle on the trapeze. Although we had to stick to careful choreography to keep ourselves safe under the illusion of danger, there was no let up in the aggression or the intensity as we pushed ourselves to the very limits of our ability. The normal rush that you get from being up there in front of a captivated audience, seemed to have been amplified more than I'd ever thought possible. In these moments with Emily I really felt like I was at one with the great events of the universe, the meteors crashing into a planet's skin, the giant eruption of a solar flare, the birth of a new star, a fucking supernova. I felt her body jerk against me in the part where I bite her neck, and realised that I had done it for real. I looked into her eyes at one point and saw her pupils had expanded so much, they were almost pure black. We were both experiencing the greatest high we had ever tasted, and I didn't want it to end. We got to the final section where we performed our fastest and most dangerous tricks, and the audience were practically screaming.

Emily performed her final knee to the face, and I hung down in catchers with my eyes closed. For several moments there was no sign of Emily starting to make her descent, but I could feel the buzz from the crowd and I knew she was milking them. When I finally felt her start to slither across my torso, it was so much slower than usual. I had to stop myself trembling at the delicious contact of her skin against mine. As if that wasn't enough, she stopped halfway down and licked my breast. SHE LICKED MY BREAST!! Of course I went into an involuntary spasm, what the fuck else was I supposed to do? But she used it, to give the illusion of falling before she caught herself again, hanging by one arm. Without using her other other arm she pulled herself back up again towards the final kiss. One armed pull-ups Emily? When the fuck did you get that strong? She used her free hand to tangle into my hair, and pull my lips towards her bloody mouth. My lips were already parted when she got there. It wasn't a stage kiss, it couldn't be a stage kiss, could it? After all the unbridled violence of the scene, this time the kiss was oh so gentle, parted lips to parted lips. There were no tongues, but that kiss seared itself into my soul, more than any other seemingly passionate kiss I had known. Emily dropped to the floor and walked away from me, but she had burned herself into me, into every cell. I had tasted her, there was no going back.

The lights went to black, and the whole placed erupted. I disentagled myself and climbed down the rope, and when the lights came back up they dazzled me. I was dazed and confused but I felt Emily at my side, her hand slipped through mine. She looked at me and we both burst out into radiant smiles as we took our bows. Anthea was on her feet, shouting indecipherable obscenities of praise. My heart was pounding and I could feel my blood racing around my body. I could feel every nerve ending. I could feel every tiny vibration in the room. How would I ever deal with 'normality' again? I was a changed woman. I had evolved.

We both rushed to wash up as much as we could and get changed, cause that tiny dressing room was too small to contain us, and the battle for space with the showgirls was one we were always going to lose. And I for one was desperate for a drink. As soon as we got back out into the bar, Emily was mobbed. Loads of her friends had come down to see the new stuff she was doing, and they were all going crazy for her. I smiled over at her, happy to see her getting praise from her buddies, still in the grip of the incredible high that enveloped us both. I could wait. What we had shared was truly ours, and all those others merely witnesses on the outside looking in. Or so I thought until a harsh south London accent shattered my euphoria at a stroke.

"If I didn't know she was such a good actor, I'd have to consider smacking you down, gel. Lucky I know you're straight."

Fucking Shayna. Of all the nights to suddenly start showing an interest in Emily's work, she had to choose this one. But then again we were only ten minutes down the road from her fucking club.

"That was well hot," said Shayna.

She smiled and winked at me, and then went to claim her woman. She cut her way through the crowd surrounding Emily, and completely took charge of the space, asserting her dominance and pulling Emily into a passionate kiss. It was all about ownership. The most popular woman in the room was hers. Ok Shayna. Got the fucking message.

She invited the whole lot of us, all of Emily's mates and Anthea included back to her club. Lorded it up playing the generous host, shepherding us into the VIP area, and giving us free drinks. All the time with her arm wrapped round Emily. Showing her off like a prize fucking cat. The enthusiastic praise that was coming my way from Emily's friends just bounced off me, lost in my fury over Shayna. My brain screamed silent proclamations at her. _You don't deserve her. You only see her surface. You don't know her like I do._ It was the only comfort I could glean, knowing that I had access to parts of Emily that Shayna would never see. It was cold comfort, but whilst I was lost in Shayna's territory, it was the only lifeline I had. It was enough for me to smile and accept, when Shayna invited me and Ems up to her office. She pulled out a bottle of the best champagne, and cracked it open, pouring for the three of us.

"To the dirtiest fucking trapeze act I have ever seen," she toasted. "We'll have to get you to do some of that shit in here one night."

I raised my glass and smiled as best I could. I was stuck on one side of the desk, whilst Shayna had Emily pressed against the other side of it with her hips. I started thinking about recipes, making an mental inventory of every piece of rigging we had in the circus, anything. Anything to stop my brain focussing on the point of pressure between Shayna and the body of my beautiful Emily.

"You girls want a line of coke?" offered the bitch who had to die.

"Not for me," I said. "We've got a show to do tomorrow."

"Emily?" asked Shayna.

Emily turned to look at me before declining.

"Nah, we had better be professional," she said. Oh God, was that her way of telling me that it was just a stage kiss after all?

"Oh well," shrugged Shayna. "Guess you shouldn't keep your friends waiting for too long."

I was about to protest that they were Emily's friends not mine, when I caught Emily's eye again.

"I'll catch you up in a bit," she said.

Fuck me, I was being dismissed. They hadn't lost their physical contact for a second, and their eyes were blazing with lust. I had to get out of there. I brazenly grabbed the rest of the bottle of fancy champagne and lurched out of the door. I made my way back downstairs, bypassing the VIP room and heading straight to the smoking yard. I smoked furiously as I struggled to shake the visions of Shayna fucking Emily on her desk, snorting lines of coke off her naked belly, Emily screaming Shayna's name when she should be screaming mine. I was lucky that the mere fact of it being a smoking area meant it wasn't long before Anthea was at my side. I was already smacking my head repeatedly backwards into the brick wall by the time she came to my assistance.

"Calm down, Blondie," she said, pulling me away from the wall. "I think you might want to stop before there's actual brain damage."

I lurched forward into her arms.

"She's fucking her," I blurted out, unable to control my emotions any longer. "Shayna's fucking her right now."

"And that just fucking kills you, doesn't it?" said Anthea, offering me solace in another cigarette.

Anthea and I smoked silently for several minutes.

"How the fuck am I going to get through this?" I asked eventually.

"I think you better ask my daughter," she replied.


	14. 14 Glastonbury Part 1

**A/N Thank you so much for all the fantastic comments on the last chapter. It's been a long hard week so far, but because you've all been so fabulous, I managed to squeeze the next chapter out in my breaks. I hope you enjoy it. This one goes out to Lamb! who gave me the phrase 'fucked up mentor' for Anthea. **

14 Glastonbury Part 1

Emily

Don't touch her, Emily. Don't even think about touching her. Don't even think about thinking about touching her. But God, wouldn't this just be the perfect fucking moment? We were standing at the very top of the ribbon tower at Glastonbury, looking out over the lights of a festival the size of a small town. It was the night before it officially opened to the public, but the infrastructure was all in and there were thousands of people here already. Traders, crew, performers like us, and many punters who had been able to get the time off work to get here early.

"Wednesday night is the new Thursday night," Naomi had told me with great authority, as she insisted we all go out for a group wander. "Best night of the festival. It's all about the sense of anticipation..."

Of course I had to take her word for it. It was no surprise that she and Cook had been here many times before, But I was a Glastonbury virgin, and Naomi was just loving showing off her wordly experience to me. I didn't mind putting myself in her hands. After all it had brought us here. The festival spreads itself out over several hills, and the ribbon tower stands in one of the highest fields. It is built out of scaffolding and rises 60 odd metres into the sky. It is decorated with hundreds of colourful ribbons and flags, that flutter in the wind and look particularly spectacular once it is lit up at night. It looks beautiful, but of course the real prize is revealed once you have reached the top, and the most fantastic view of the whole festival is spread out beneath you, lights twinkling in the darkness across fields stretching almost as far as the eye can see.

It would be so easy. I played the scenario out in my mind. I stand next to her as we gaze out across the fields, listening to the fragments of random sound rising into the night air. Slowly, subtly I take her hand in mine. Once I sense that she's comfortable with that, I whisper her name and we turn to face each other, our hands still entwined. I tell her how much I admire her, how she's changed my life, how incredible it feels to be in the air with her, and during this speech I subtly manoeuvre our bodies until I'm pressing her gently back into the railing. In my mind she's not resisting, she's waiting for me to make my move. I move my free hand up towards her face and softly stroke her cheek with the backs of my fingers. She closes her eyes and takes in a long deep breath. It is a breath of arousal. This is my moment. I reach up to kiss her, and her lips are already slightly parted the way they were that night. The night of Anthea's cabaret. The best night of my life.

Until I turned into such a spectacular cunt. I had never felt a desire so pure and beautiful as the one I felt for Naomi that night. Yeah, I know I was filled with a filthy, carnal and animalistic lust as well. How could I not have been when we were anointing each other with blood? It felt like some crazy pagan ritual preparing the virgins for a right royal fucking. Any other girl and sexmonster Fitch would have been released and bugger the consequences. But Naomi is not any girl. I love her, and the more I fall for her, the more scared I become of doing anything that might hurt her or freak her out. The only time I feel brave enough to express even the slightest hint of the things I'm feeling is when we're onstage and it can all be camoflaged as part of the act. I know I fucking pushed my luck that night, stretching the boundaries of our 'professional' relationship to the very limit. I licked her fucking breast for Christ's sake! I was so hyped after that I did a fucking one armed pull up! I didn't even know I had it in me, but she makes me feel fucking superhuman. The power I feel when we are in that perfect moment of connection is better than any drug, better than any sex. And it made me lose my mind. When I kissed her that night, I fucking meant it. There was nothing professional about that kiss. It wasn't our characters kissing, it was me kissing the woman I'm in love with, and for those few seconds in the air _we_ were all that mattered and I felt certain that she wanted it too.

But then we hit the ground and the real world came rushing back to destroy us. Naomi was no longer the perfect dream woman who I was going to run off into the sunset with. She was my boss who would rather fuck that scrawny little no mark Justin than have anything to do with me. I should have stayed with her. I shouldn't have let anyone take that perfect moment away from us. I should have had the balls to see if what I thought I felt from her was true. But in my uncertainty, I let Shayna in. I was so scared of being rejected by Naomi, I clung to the one person I was sure of. I needed someone so badly after that show, and Shayna was the uncomplicated option. I know it's quite common for people to fantasize about someone else whilst making love to a partner, but before that night I had never actually done it. I let Shayna feed me coke and fuck me on that desk, but my head was full of blonde. I closed my eyes and saw the naked blood-smeared torso of my unobtainable love, as my girlfriend's fingers thrust hard into my body. I groaned as I imagined it was Naomi's hot tongue that was pushing it's way into my mouth. And as I came so hard I thought the fucking building was going to fall down, it was all I could do to stop myself from screaming her beautiful name.

Like I said, I behaved like a spectacular cunt. I lied to myself, I betrayed Naomi, and I used Shayna. And the saddest thing of all is that I was probably going to carry on doing it. Naomi had seemed a little distant when we got back up to Bradford, and for the life of me I couldn't work out if it was because I had gone too far that night in London, or because I hadn't gone far enough. I looked across at the goddess in human form who was currently consuming my every waking thought, and it physically fucking hurt me. She was just too fucking wonderful. I still thought that she deserved better than the invisible boyfriend, but I knew for sure she deserved better than a lying, horny little shit like me.

Fortunately the moment was shattered by a large crashing sound, followed by an industrial level volley of expletives. Anthea, our delightfully fucked up mentor, had insisted upon blagging a much sought after guest ticket out of us. Ostensibly, it was so that she could make sure we were not neglecting Effy in such an unstable environment as this, but really I suspect it was so that she could get shit-faced and behave like a teenager. She needn't have worried. Ever since we got here my sister seemed to have adopted Effy as her new baby twin, and seemed to be on a personal mission to keep her from falling over the edge.

"Bloomin 'eck, Anthea," said Pandora arriving shortly after. "You wanna watch out or you'll do yourself a damage."

"I'll try and remember that," replied Anthea caustically, but of course it bounced off Panda's consciousness without registering.

"Thommo, Cookie," she yelled back down the steps. "Get on up here. This view is totally whacker!"

Cook bounced up the stairs and started racking out lines on the lid of his spliff tin. We had a show tomorrow, but suddenly that didn't seem to be bothering anyone.

"It's Glastonbury," he shrugged as if it were self-explanatory. "None of the normal rules apply here."

I glanced up at Naomi for confirmation of this contradiction and was shocked by the glint of mischief I saw in her eyes.

"It's a whole different world," she winked at me.

"You leave your inhibitions at the gate," grinned Cook.

The pair of them smirked at me with open invitation. Seems like Anthea wasn't the only one who was going to be behaving like a teenager. No Justin, no Shayna, no inhibitions, no rules. This could only lead to trouble of the best possible kind.

"Let's go fucking MENTAL!!!!!!" yelled Cook, and we all hurtled down the stairs and ran off into the night.

I woke up at midday the next day, with a banging hangover, still dressed in last night's clothes and with my duvet only vaguely pulled over my body. There was no sign of Katie and it looked like her bed hadn't been slept in. Must have pulled, I guessed. I remember the first couple of hours after the ribbon tower, the whole gang of us on a random wander through the fields, checking out whatever crazy things we happened upon, everybody bumping into people they knew at some point, just free and stupid with no worries in the world. It all starts to get a little fuzzy after that. There were cocktails in some random bar, shots in another. We knocked up Gina at some point in her bus out the back of the Tribal Fountain and all did more lines together. There were teepees, sculptures made out of cars, fire swingers, and strange creatures on stilts. Performance poetry, a calypso band, some people chanting shit. Fucking....just fucking stuff, I don't know what it was, but it was good. All of it was good cause there was beautiful Cook and even more beautiful Naomi, and my gorgeous sister, and Crazy Effy and her wonderful shitfaced mum, and lovely Panda and Thommo and my sweet faced juggler boys and it was all so beautiful and I loved them all and the pretty lights and then somehow it was morning and the sun was coming up and I loved the world and then........

I staggered out of my caravan, and looked around the camp. Naomi was sitting on the steps of her truck. Her hair was a mess and she didn't look like she had been up much longer than me, but even in her crumpled state she was radiant.

"That was some night,huh?" she grinned at me.

It felt like someone had set off napalm in my heart. Could I be any more in love with this woman? I was infected. She was in my blood.

"Yeah," was all I managed. Inarticulate, stuttering, lovestruck fool.

"You wanna train today, hun?" she asked me, the endearment sending flutters through my heart. Actually, the way my body felt right then, all I wanted to do was crawl into some corner and quietly die. But training meant Naomi, physical interaction with Naomi. Her hands on my body, the glorious intimacy that only she and I cold share, separated only by a millimetre of lycra.

"You might have to give me a moment," I croaked huskily, my eyes squinting aginst the sun. I was rewarded by another one of those smiles, which answered my own question. Yes, I could be more in love with this woman. I fell a little deeper every time she smiled.

It was about an hour later when we finally managed to drag ourselves into the tent and started warming up. It was already pretty hot in there, but it felt good to stretch my muscles, and even better just to be hanging out with Naomi, chatting idly and doing our thing. That was the wierd thing, there were times around her when I wound myself so tightly I could barely even speak. But other times, I just felt so comfortable with her company it was like I'd known her all my life. It turned out there were plenty of things I still didn't know about Naomi, as I was about to find out. We had just about finished our stretches, and Naomi was stood up by the king pole lowering our trapeze into place on its pulley system, when Effy poked her head into the tent.

"There you are," she said, as though she had been looking for us. "It seems we have a mutual friend," she said to Naomi.

Moments later a striking tall blonde woman with an infectious smile walked into the tent.

"Wow, Naomi. How lovely," she exclaimed, before walking straight up to her and kissing her full on the mouth. My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

"Cassie, hi," said Naomi sheepishly. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

I could tell she was as stunned as I was. When I noticed Naomi's hand still resting on Cassie's hip, my eyes involuntarily sought out the one person here who actually knew what the fuck was going on. Effy was already smirking at me. She raised one eyebrow and broadened her grin. Whoever this Cassie person was, she had brought her here for a reason.

"I'm Emily," I said, reaching out my hand in greeting.

She ignored it and instead pulled me straight into a beautiful friendly hug. Then she pulled back but kept her hands on my shoulders as she looked me up and down.

"Wow, you look like the other one. How gorgeous," she said. "But different too. Fascinating."

Normally when people start to bang on abut the twin thing, I find it intensely irritating, but this girl just seemed so genuine, I found myself automatically forgiving her.

"So how do you and Naomi know each other?" I asked her.

"Oh, we met in New York when I was living there," said Cassie. "She was on holiday, and we had two wonderful weeks together. I introduced her to the power of the pussy."

Effy Stonem you're a fucking genius.

"Oh really?" I said, turning my gaze pointedly towards Naomi. "She never mentioned it."

Naomi's eyes widened in panic. Cassie looked between the two of us.

"Oh right," she said knowingly. "Wow, well Naomi doesn't like to define herself by her relationships or sexuality. She's strong like that. It's part of what makes her so alluring, but then you already know that."

What did I know? I'm sure I knew loads of stuff. All kinds of interesting facts and useless trivia, but in that moment I had forgetten all of it. My brain had zeroed in on the one fact that suddenly seemed to be the most important piece of information in the world. Naomi Campbell had slept with a girl, and judging by the residual electricity still evident between her and Cassie, she had fucking liked it.

"Yeah, she's quite something," I grinned smugly. Got ya now Campbell. But the smile was soon wiped off my face as Effy decided in the spirit of fairness, that it was my turn to be exposed.

"So, I take it Sid never found you," she said to Cassie.

"He came to look for me?" she said in surprise.

"Who's Sid?" Naomi and I chorused in unison.

"Sid is my brother's best mate," said Effy. "Cassie was his true love, but they kept fucking it up, and in the end he lost her."

"That was careless of him," I said. "If I ever found my true love, I'd make sure I hung on to her."

It just slipped out before I thought about it, but Effy was onto it like a lion leaping onto a zebra.

"So Shayna isn't your true love," she said calmly.

Effy Stonem, you are an evil, evil girl. I could feel Naomi's blue eyes boring into the side of my head, but I refused to turn to meet her glare for fear of melting under it.

"Yeah well, I'm not sure I believe in all that stuff anyway," I blurted, trying to rescue the situation. "The One, and all that. It's hardly logical, is it? Love is just an accident of timing and geography."

"Wow, that's like so true," nodded Cassie sagely.

"Come on, Cassie," said the demon Effy. "We should leave these girls to train."

I was all business during training. We had a show to do later, and I was feeling bad enough from our night of hedonism, without having to deal with this afternoon's revelations as well. The show itself was quite another matter. Naomi's performance had an extra wicked edge to it. There was something fierce about her, and whenever I caught her eye, her glance was way sharper than the knife she had taunted me with at Cabaret Extreme. She held my gaze unwaveringly during the waltz scene, I swear she didn't blink once. The defence mechanisms we had been using to protect ourselves from each other had been stripped away from us by Effy's cunning, and it seemed as if Naomi was searching for what lay underneath. What would she do when she realised it was love? I felt her hand inch it's way a little closer to my ass, and for the first time I began to wonder if she had been hiding too. By the time we got to the doubles, the tension between us had been amped up to about ten thousand volts. In Bradford we had both cooled the scene down a lot, but tonight we had made an unspoken mutual pact to increase the sexual content once more. Moves were held just those few seconds longer as our eyes locked, before one of us broke it and threw the other one away. Touches became more explicit, and the lines between the fight or fuck impetus for the characters became even more blurred. When she pulled my head back to bite me, she ran her tongue down my neck before her teeth closed around my tendon, and just as in London she didn't fake it. My eyes flicked wider open and I took in a sharp breath, before I regained my senses and pushed her into our next move. She must have known that my reaction was for real, cause just before our final sequence she flashed me such a look.

It was a question. A question asking me 'Are you feeling this too?' I didn't have time to answer her before we flung ourselves into the big tricks, but I knew what was coming up. When I slid down her body, all the cockiness I had felt in London had evaporated, there would be no one armed pull up tonight. Instead I returned the question, and I asked it with the kiss. Are you feeling this too?

When I put my hand on her shoulder in the final scene, I could feel a tiny spasm in her muscles beneath it. When she brought her own hand up to meet it, she stroked my hand subtly before settling into the grasp. She didn't let go of my hand during the blackout. She didn't let go of my hand during curtain call. Oh my fucking God, could it really be true that she felt something for me after all? After I changed out of my costume I sat in my caravan taking deep breaths to try to calm myself down.

"What the fuck's the matter with you?" asked Katie practically shoving her ass in my face as she struggled to beautify herself in the caravan's tiny mirror.

"Just hyped after the show," I lied. "I wasn't sure I was gonna get through it after last night."

"Well, you better come out with us again tonight," insisted Katie. "Effy swears she's found the new cool place to be."

"I think we can rely on Effy," said Naomi, leaning in our doorway, looking gorgeous. "After all, she only ever speaks the truth."

There it was again, that glint in her eye. Things were looking up. I shoved Katie out of the way and checked my look in the mirror. A wild night out in the new cool place to be with the most fascinating woman on earth who had more than a hint of seduction in her beautiful steel blue eyes. This could be interesting. I had just started to let a smile of equally evil intent spread across my face when Stanton Warriors 'Shake It Up' rang out across the caravan. I looked down at my phone on the table as if it had betrayed me. That was Shayna's ringtone. I had gotten her ticket to come with us, but at the last moment she said she wouldn't be able to make it, using work as an excuse as usual. I had been so mad with her at the time, but right now I was fucking ecstatic about it. Throughout the day I had somehow managed to convince myself that if she cared, she would have come, and her absence was almost a licence for any bad behaviour I might find myself indulging in with certain suddenly not so completely straight blonde girls. I picked up the offending electronic device and looked at the screen. Shit, I had five missed calls from her already. Better not blow her off again.

"Hey babes," I said, answering the call.

"What the fuck, Emily?" said Shayna. "Why have you been ignoring me?"

"I haven't been ignoring you," I said irritatedly. "I've been doing a show. Can't exactly take my mobile on stage, can I."

"Oh yeah," she said dismissively, as though it was unimportant. "Oh well, you've finished now, yeah? You can come and get me."

"What?"

"I'm here, baby," she said.

"What do you mean, you're here?"

"Managed to get cover at the club, and get a lift down with Davie Q and Cracksmacker. We're at a bar called "Crazy Dingo" in the Jazz/World field."

"Ok," I said, still in shock. "I'll come and meet you."

I cut off the call and looked up at the expectant faces of Katie and Naomi.

"She's here," I said numbly. "Like, in the next field."

"Fucking great," said Katie sarcastically. "Invasion of the shagmonsters."

"That'll be nice for you," said Naomi coldly, and walked away.

**I would say I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, but I'm not. As the old showbiz saying goes - always leave 'em wanting more. The next one will be a while as we have dress rehearsal tonight, and we open tomorrow, then we have matinees (work of the devil) and zero time off till monday. I will miss you but, Stay Alive.....you know the rest. Hypes xx**


	15. 15 Glastonbury Part 2

**A/N Well I'm back after a few well hectic days, and in typical fashion coming down with some kind of virus on my one day off. Once again thanks for all the fantastic reviews and comments and to all the new readers. Here is the next thrilling episode for you featuring YES, more excruciating sexual tension. This one goes out to all the people who I have shouting at their computer screens, and also to braziliangirl87, cause she's always so lovely. **

**Love from the Hypes xx**

Glastonbury Part 2

Naomi

So there I was in the new cool place to be feeling like the biggest loser in the world. Katie and Effy were owning the dance floor, Cook was chatting up a bunch of students, Cassie was whirling around in a world of her own under a tree hung with colour changing fairy lights, and I was lurking in the shadows on my own wasting my hard earned cash on vodka. And Emily? Fuck knows where Emily was, or what she was doing. All I knew was who she was doing it with, and that it should have been me. She should have been with me. Instead she was with her, the south London devil whore. My skin crawls every time I think about her touching Emily. It was just so wrong. My mind wandered back to the night's show, before we knew that she was here, and the delicious shudder that ran through Emily's body when I licked and bit her neck. The way she looked into my eyes, the way she held the kiss. There had to be more to us than just an act, there had to be. I had lost a little bit of my protection when Cassie had revealed the truth about us, but Emily's reaction had given me hope that I might not need that protection. So she knew I liked girls. Was it time to let her know that I liked _a_ girl? No, I loved her. I loved _her_, Emily Fitch. But fucking Shayna had decided to turn up, and Ems had gone running to her like an obedient puppy. My cursed brain suddenly delivered the most terrible thought. Oh God, what if she just wants to fuck me? Is that what all those signals were about. It's the kind of thing she'd be perfectly capable of doing if Katie's stories are to be believed. What if she does fancy me, but all she wants to do is fuck me, before going back to Shayna? I couldn't let that happen, I think it would fucking kill me.

I heard a shutter noise go off beside my head, and I had to force myself to count to ten, whilst I reminded myself that Effy was sick and I really couldn't shove her camera where the sun don't shine. Luckily for her, though Effy was a woman of few words, she always seemed to choose them wisely, and her next few shattered my bad mood in an instant.

"She's not in love with her, remember," her soft voice whispered in my ear.

"How do you always know?" I asked her, looking her in the eye and trying to outstare her. Big mistake. I was never going to win. I looked away from the fearsome gaze, and saw Katie beckoning me over. I went to join her welcoming the escape, and she dragged me round the back of the bar tent.

"Got any drugs, Naomi?" she asked me. I knew she was trying to be discreet, and hide her consumption from Effy, but I don't know why she was bothering, fucking Effy would know anyway. I fished into my jeans pocket and brought out a wrap of coke.

"Here, fucking have it," I said. I didn't want it anymore. It had come from the blinged up piece of pond slime who was probably slavering over the Divine Breasts of Emily Fitch as we spoke. Katie didn't argue, she wasn't one to try to decline out of politeness. I liked her for that. You never got any bullshit with Katie.

"Do you want to sleep in my truck?" I asked her, suddenly remembering she would be homeless if pond slime was here in her caravan.

"Nah, fuck 'em," she said, hoovering up a generous line of coke. "That caravan is my home too. I'm not sodding moving out at Glasto. Shayna wasn't even supposed to be coming. If they want to shag they're gonna have to do it when I'm not around."

I had to stop myself from kissing her. Katie fucking cockblocking Fitch, I love you.

I didn't stay long after that. I decided that the new cool place to be could probably manage without one mardy, sexually frustrated cloudswinger and left my friends to it. I wandered slowly back to our site through the madness that is Glastonbury after dark, ignoring all distractions and suddenly craving some kind of semblance of peace and quiet. As much as such a thing could ever be found at one of Europe's largest festivals, I knew I was most likely to find it at home, which for the moment was the performers camping area at the back of our tent. When I got back there, Pandora and Thomas were sat round our campfire. I got my bottle of Havana Club rum out of my truck and went to join them. They were sickly sweet as always, but it was hard not to adore them. They had been together practically since the day they had met. That was four years ago now. In my head I tended to agree with Emily's little speech about The One, but it was hard not to believe in true love when you saw it in operation nearly every day. My thoughts drifted back to Emily for the gazillionth time that day. I was now pretty certain I had been wrong about her not fancying me, now I had to work out if that was all there was.

"See ya tomorrow, Naomi," said Panda, interrupting my musings. "Me and Thommo are gonna bog off and make monkey."

I waved them off merrily, looking forward to having the fire to myself, just me and my bottle and my angst. I couldn't even be jealous of their happiness. Happy coupledom was just something I'd figured I was never cut out for, I certainly wasn't picturing fat grandchildren with Justin. The closest I'd come to it was with Cassie I suppose, I mean those two weeks in New York were pretty bloody amazing, but the timing and geography meant it could never last. But then came the rehead of doom. In the thousand and one versions of Emily fantasy I had constantly skipping through my brain there weren't just pictures of us having the hottest, steamiest sex known to womankind (though there were plently of those!). My head was filled with visions of us working together, travelling together, eating together, cuddling, laughing, talking, just _being_ together. God I wish she was here.

Wow, I am going to have to try that again, because as soon I had thought it, I heard Emily's voice swearing from across the field. I looked up to see that she had tripped over the guy ropes of someone's tent and was struggling to get to her feet again. I smiled because she looked so adorably wasted, then smiled even harder when I realised she was alone. She started making her way towards our camp, frowning and stumbling from side to side and muttering as she went.

"You off your tits, Red?" I called out to her.

Her face lit up when she saw me.

"Lil bit, yeah," she grinned.

She wobbled her way through the final part of her journey and collapsed onto the beanbag I was sprawled out in beside me.

"Whatchabinupto?" she slurred at me.

"Well we went to the new cool place to be, but I didn't stay long," I replied.

"Not cool enough, huh?" she said, poking me.

"Cause I'm such a major league nerd," I giggled. "What about you?"

And what have you done with your girlfriend???

"Shayna got us in backstage at Jazz/World. Those guys she came with are some big name Djs, or something. But it was really boring. Everyone was there all trying to impress each other, and being all cool and shit. I just got wankered to relieve the tedium. After she'd shown me off a few times Shay got all music biz on my ass, and I just found myself in tent full of idiots taking way too much coke and talking bollocks."

"So you thought you'd come home and hang out with us wierdo circus freaks?"

"Seems to be my natural habitat."

"Shayna still there?" I asked, desperately hoping she wasn't going to pop up any second. Emily just shrugged.

"Well the tent kinda started spinning so I kinda just fucked off."

She looked up at me and grinned a squiffy grin. I had thought of Emily in so many different ways; beautiful, talented, cool, intelligent, creative, sexy, amazing. Right now, she just looked cute.

"Whatcha drinking?" she asked me, reaching for my bottle.

"Are you sure?"

"I had some chips on my way back, and I think that sort of helped."

I handed over the rum, and she took a healthy swig.

"You know I realised something tonight," she slurred. "In that place, watching Shay schmoozing around."

"What's that?" I whispered, a plague of butterflies doing synchronised aerobatics in my stomach.

"She's not my friend," smiled Emily sadly. "I mean she treats me well, she can be great fun and she's a fantastic fuck, but other than that, we don't really have that much in common. It's all surface with her. She's not my friend, not like you."

My heart winced at the 'fantastic fuck' part, but I soon forgave her as she rolled over towards me and snuggled into my side, putting her arm around my waist. It was all I could do not to jump on her right there and then, but she was so wasted, and at the end of the day she was right. We were friends, fucking amazing friends, and I wanted to be someone she could trust. I wanted to be someone who meant more to her than just a fantastic fuck. So I just held her and we chatted, and drank rum and looked up at the stars. I was in the middle of some rant about the European Union buying up fishing rights in Africa so the local fishermen weren't allowed to fish in their own waters, when I suddenly realised she had stopped making the adorable little agreeing sounds she usually makes when I start babbling. I listened to her breathing and realised she had fallen asleep. Emily Fitch had fallen asleep in my arms, and it made me the happiest woman in Glasto.

I don't know how long I had just sat there sipping rum with the girl of my dreams curled up against my side, when I heard Cassie's voice.

"Oh wow, you both look so cute," she said.

I smiled lazily up at her, realising I was suddenly very drunk. She really was fucking lovely.

"Effy told me about Emily's girlfriend coming," said Cassie. "And I did come back to see if you wanted to drown your sorrows with some old flame action, but I see I'm too late."

If I am perfectly honest, the thought did cross my mind when the hellbitch first showed up, and revenge fucking my ex seemed like the perfect plan. But in the end I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was too hung up on Emily, and I cared about Cass too much too fuck her around like that.

"I'm sorry, Cass."

"No, no it's fine. She's really beautiful, and I know you're in love with her."

"How do you know that?"

"Are you kidding me?" laughed Cassie. "I did watch your show tonight."

She leaned over and kissed me gently on the forehead, before turning and skipping off into the night.

I woke up alone, the sun streaming in through the windows in my truck in this freakishly good-weathered Glastonbury. I had done the right thing. I had fought the urge to bring Emily to my bed when the fire had died down and I started to get cold. She was still completely out of it, so I picked her up and brought her back to her caravan. I took her shoes off and put her to bed. I didn't dare undress her, I knew it would be too much. So now I lay there in my bed, having to make do with imagining what it would be like to wake up next to her, to kiss her without being upside down. I got up and made myself breakfast, imagining what it would be like to make her breakfast in bed, jump back in beside her and eat toast with her. Then afterwards maybe eat something else as well...I felt myself becoming wet at the thought of Emily's clit beneath my tongue. Oh shit, I have got it SO bad. Obsession by Naomi Campbell.

I decided lying around in bed mooning over her was not going to help the situation, so I got up. Maybe I could go for a run or something, maybe even train some cloudswing. Be adult, professional, cool Naomi, not the helpless sixteen year old lovestruck geeky version that Emily had reduced me to. When I got outside I noticed that the banner with our name on it that was strung between the kingpoles had come adrift and was flapping about in the wind. That meant climbing up there and sorting it out. There were any number of people I could have gotten to help me, but as I saw Shayna leave the caravan and head towards the toilets, I decided that only Emily would do. Get her off the ground and away from you know who. Back on our turf, and in a place where Shayna could never follow.

"Ems could you give me a hand, the banner's come loose on top of the tent?" I said, barging into the caravan without knocking.

Then the world came to a complete stop. The first thing I noticed was that Emily was completely naked. Lying on the bed completely naked. Then I noticed that her arms were stretched above her head. There was a small metal bar that ran across the bottom of one of the windows and Emily was handcuffed to it.

"I'd love to help you babe, but as you can see I'm a little tied up," she said.

When I'd first burst in, she had tried to curl up to at least reduce her exposure. But then she realised there was very little she could do about it, and relaxed, allowing me to see her in all her glory. A normal person would have just apologised and left, but my cognitive functions had been reduced to the endless repetition of three words. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed.

"I'll come and help you in a bit, yeah?" she said. "Soon as Shayna lets me out of these things."

I looked up at the handcuffs. They weren't the kind of cheap quick release ones, you might pick up in a sex shop. They were the real thing. Emily was well and truly tethered. She smiled at me with a wicked glint in her eye and all thoughts of a friendship or professional relationship vanished. I had to have her, I simply had to. From that moment on sex with Emily Fitch would become my primary objective. I didn't care if it was only physical, it would be worth it. I had to get my hands on that body. I had to kiss those fucking unbelievable breasts. I had to get myself inside of her. It was only the fear that if Shayna caught me in the caravan perving over her naked handcuffed girlfriend she would rip my throat out that made me turn around and leave the vision of heavenly loveliness behind. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed. Oh my fucking God.

I staggered out of the caravan my eyes squinting in the sudden brightness of the sun. I was so turned on I could barely stand. Effy was lying on a picnic rug outside her tent with Katie rubbing sun cream into her back. The sight of the two women touching each other, even in such an innocent manner only made me worse, and I swear I must have gone bright red when Katie looked up at me. I wanted to do such unspeakably filthy things to her baby sister. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed. Oh Christ please, somebody help me. Focus, Naomi. Focus on something else. Be Naomi, turn all your energy towards other people's problems rather than your own. Effy. Find out if Effy's coping with the pressure of being here.

"How are you doing Eff?" I asked her.

Effy sat up and gazed around her slowly, as if she was really thinking about her answer, before sinking back down onto her back and lying with her head on Katie's lap.

"I've got ninety-nine problems," she smiled up at me. "But a Fitch ain't one."

I only had one problem for the next two days. It wasn't Emily, it was the girlfriend that suddenly seemed to be superglued to her body. It was like she knew something. She wasn't particularly unfriendly to me or anything, but she was even more physically possessive than usual. Maybe Emily was behaving differently with her or something, but Shayna's predator senses were definitely warning her that something was amiss. The only time I got Emily to myself was when we were doing shows, but boy did I make the most of it. Tony's prediction from opening night was now most definitely true. It wasn't a trapeze routine, it was foreplay. I don't know what we were doing to our audiences, but I knew what I was doing to Emily. The whole show became a sexually charged game for me, to see how far I could push her without making either of us actually lose it onstage. It was completely unprofessional, but it was Glastonbury and most of the audience were wasted so I didn't care.

Outside of the show there was evidence that Emily was at least still enjoying the fantastic fuck element of her relationship. I didn't like it, but I admitted that I might have been at least partially responsible by teasing her to the very limit without offering her any form of release. I just avoided them as much as I could. My time would come. So I indulged myself with all the many distractions that Glasonbury had to offer. I went to see bands, and other theatre and circus shows. I went up to the stone circle and spun fire with pretty little dreadlocked hippy girls. I went dancing with Cassie, hung out at my Mum's cafe and just wandered for hours on my own around the enormous site, taking in the sights and sounds and smells of a hundred thousand people having fun.

By the time it got to Sunday night, traditionally when the performers go most crazy of all having finished all their shows, I was kind of festivalled out. I was actually looking forward to going back to Bristol for a few days and sleeping it off at my Mum's house. Our next gig was in Scotland, but the Fabulous Fitches were flying out to Dubai to do one of their fancy corporate gigs, and were meeting us there. I would have to wait a little while longer to put my evil scheme into practice. Sex with Emily Fitch whatever the consequences.

So whilst everyone else headed off for a night of wild abandon, I returned to my truck to chill out and indulge myself in a spot of flashbacking to my favourite moment. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed. Absolute bliss. I dozed off with that happy thought in my head, but the next thing I knew I was woken up by my phone ringing. It was four in the morning. I cursed but, then I couldn't really be angry. Four in the morning was a perfectly reasonable time to be phoning someone at Glasto. I didn't recognise the number, but I answered anyway. Lots of people lose their phones here and end up having to borrow someone else's. It was Cassie. My first thought was a sudden surge of ego that she still had my number. My second was why the fuck was she crying? I soon found out.

"There's something wrong with Effy," she told me. "She's really frightened. She won't come out, and she won't let me near her."

Oh fuck. I managed to get Cassie to calm down enough to tell us where they were. It wasn't looking good. They were in Trash City, one of the loudest freakiest places on site, and definitely not the best place to be if you were fragile of mind. I got dressed quickly and ran to Anthea's tent. It was empty. I rang her phone but there was no answer. I left a message and then phoned Cook and told him to look for her. I mean she could be fucking anywhere, but at least he could try a few of our favourite haunts. I had to get to Effy. I was just about to leave, when instinct made me stop at the Fitch caravan. Katie was curled up in bed. No wonder Effy had lost it, she had been without her guardian angel. I shook Katie awake and expained the situation. She was out of bed and dressed in seconds, and we both ran up to Trash City as fast as we could, throwing people out of our way in the crowd.

The field was still jam-packed and once we got there it still took us nearly twenty minutes to find Cassie. She wasn't in a great way herself. She dragged us over towards a twenty metre high junk sculpture made from scrap metal. Cassie pointed up, and I saw Effy's legs poking out from somewhere near the top. It made sense. Ever since she had come to us, Effy had taken to climbing things. We would often find her on the rigging bar, or even on top of the tent. I guess it was another safe place to hide from the world when she needed it, but right now I was seriously worried. I looked up and Katie was already on her way up towards Effy. Some security guy looked like he was about to yell at her to stop, but I growled at him that Katie was probably the only person who could get Effy down from there. I followed her up, keeping a discreet distance so as not to scare Effy unecessarily, but to be there for her if she needed help. Effy was wide-eyed and shaking, her make up smudged all down her face, but as soon as Katie got to her she threw herself into the twins arms. Thank fuck for that. Katie's eyes told me to keep my distance, so I climbed down and looked after Cassie whilst Katie attempted to talk Effy down.

"Did you take anything?" I asked Cassie softly.

"We just had some pills," she wept, "but I think they were cut with ket or something. They weren't very nice."

Poor Effy, stuck down a K-hole in Trash City, she must have been fucking terrified. I looked up hoping Katie would be able to work her magic. Amazingly enough, Katie was helping Effy climb down, still shielding her, keeping some kind of physical contact with her at all times. It was incredible how she had gotten Effy to trust her like that, given the way they had started out. I might be stupidly in love with the younger Fitch, but right now I took the time to appreciate that her sister was a fucking legend.

I called Cook to tell him we were on our way back to camp. He had found Anthea drinking champagne in the casino at Shangrila and was dragging her back to the circus field as we spoke. I put on my meanest I am a Hellbitch not to be messed with face, and cleared a way for Katie and Effy through the crowd. When we got back Katie took her fragile friend straight into her caravan, her tent was far too flimsy an environment for Effy right now. Not long afterwards Cook and a pale faced Anthea arrived at the scene, and we all clustered round the caravan door as Anthea went in to see her daughter. Cassie was still crying, blaming herself for letting Effy take the pills. Several minutes later, a relieved looking Anthea came outside a lit up a cigarette.

"I think we're going to be OK," she sighed heavily. "I don't know how she does it, but Katie the Vampire Slayer seems to have taken a sword to most of her demons. I think if the pair of us stay with Effy tonight we'll be able to see her through."

Just at that moment Emily and Shayna rocked up shitfaced.

"What the fuck's going on?" said Shayna loudly. "Are we having a party?"

"Effy's not well," I said. "She had some bad pills. Anthea and Katie are gonna stay with her in the caravan tonight."

"But what about us?" moaned Shayna, her arm draped even tighter round Emily than usual. "I wanna do bad things with my woman."

Everyone turned to stare at her in horror. Her pupils were huge. She was obviously coked up to the eyeballs. Emily was looking at her like she was a complete stranger.

"Come on, Shay," she said, shrugging off her prison arm. "We can sleep in Effy's tent."

"I'm not sleeping in a fucking tent," said Shayna, oblivious to the waves of hatred coming at her from all sides.

Emily snapped. She might not love Shayna, but just like the rest of us, she sure as hell loved Effy.

"Then fuck off and find somewhere else to stay," yelled Emily. "Effy's hurting, and we're going to give her whatever she needs."

A selfish wave of smugness swept over me. Emily told Shayna to fuck off.

"Why the fuck should we have to move out, just cause that mental bitch can't handle her drugs?" said Shayna angrily.

Oh dear. Despite the severity of the situation I almost had to stop myself from laughing. Shayna might be as scary as hell, but for the first time in my life I actually felt sorry for her, for of all the dangerous things in the world, there is nothing more dangerous than a mother protecting her child. Anthea smacked Shayna in the jaw, knocking her clean over. She then picked her up again and threw her against the side of Cook's caravan.

"Get the fuck out of here, and take your primitive fucking attitude with you," growled Anthea. "You don't fucking belong here. We don't need you, Effy doesn't need you, and Emily sure as hell doesn't fucking need you. So take your bling and your phoney fucking balls and get the fuck out of my way, before I rip your fucking face off with my bare hands."

With that she threw Shayna on her ass away from the camp. Shayna looked completely shocked. I don't think anyone had ever stood up to her like that. I looked at Emily, waiting for her to go after her girlfriend, but she stayed motionless. Score one for the tribe. Shayna started to back away from the still raging Anthea.

"And don't even think about fucking coming back," screamed Anthea.

I watched the pure raging passion of Anthea's love for her daughter, and wondered if there was some kind of crazy cult I could join that would allow me to marry the entire Stonem family. Perhaps I shouldn't be Empress of the World, perhaps it should be Anthea instead.

"Well now that that cunt's out of the way, I'm going to go and look after my daughter," said Anthea, going back into the caravan and shutting the door.

That left me, Cook, Emily and Cassie. Emily just looked shell-shocked, and Cassie was still in bits. I looked between the two of them, torn between seizing the moment with Emily and taking care of the girl who had shown me a whole new side to life. And fuck me if I wasn't going to be noble again.

"Do you want to stay here tonight Cass?" I said. "You can come and sleep in my truck."

She nodded and crumpled into my arms. Emily looked completely defeated, so I looked over to Cook and he got the message.

"Come on Emilio," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "Uncle Cookie's going to take care of you tonight."

So the world might not approve of our lifestyle. So some people might look upon us as hippies, freaks, pikeys and wierdos. But at least we looked after our own. All other considerations could wait. Tonight was a night for us to show the true meaning of friendship, as three losts souls would be cared for in the arms of their comrades.


	16. 16 Desert Longings

**A/N Big Love to all my readers, old and new and of course to my global crew of writers who keep encouraging me. To my number one fan ;-), to those who were checking for updates at two in the morning, and to everyone who keeps wishing me well. Perhaps you could extend your wishes to the rest of my troupe as we've had two people out with injuries this week. I thought I was safe already being injured and consigned to the ground, but I still managed to smack my head on a piece of truss five minutes before the show last night and was a little bit woozy, but fear not I am ok and will use the experience for writing goodness. Also please send love to my laptop, the crack in my screen is starting to creep over to the other side!! This one goes out to cardioklepto who always writes me lovely long comments. CK, I really wanted them to be completely in love by the time they slept together, and there's something coming up soon which will hopefully explain how they both know.**

**Enjoy, Hypes xx**

16. Desert Longings

Emily

I never knew it was possible to miss someone so much. I've always had a strong connection to Katie, but this, this is something else. It feels like a part of me is missing, that if I looked in the mirror I would see a gaping hole in my chest that you could see right through to the other side. I function, I interact with other people, but the world is somehow slightly wrong. Everything is slightly out of phase without her, and I need her to make it right. Not my lover, not the woman who's been my girlfriend these past eight months. She's not the girl without whom I can't quite seem to fully fill my lungs, can't quite seem to truly feel the desert heat on my skin. No, that honour goes to the tall blue-eyed bottle blonde who appears to have plunged her long slender fingers into my breast and ripped out my most vital organ, keeping it alive but lonely in a country far away.

They say you never forget your first Glastonbury. Well I certainly wouldn't be forgetting mine. It was eventful to say the least. I discovered that the woman I was convinced would never want me because she was straight had slept with a rather beautiful girl. I found out that my girlfriend was a selfish arsehole who had me beaten hands down in the being a spectacular cunt stakes. My friend had nearly had a psychotic breakdown, my sister had turned into a superhero and my surrogate mother had smacked my girlfriend round the head, and thrown her out on her arse. And that was on top of all the drink, drugs, partying and bondage sex. Sex with the wrong girl.

I remember how happy I was when I found out about Cassie, and how excited I had been about the thought of spending the whole festival with Naomi. I just know something would have happened between us if fucking Shayna hadn't shown up. But she did, and I took the easy option again. You're such a coward, Fitch. Why the hell don't you just do what Effy tells you and be brave? Naomi had been true to Cook's words and left her inhibitions at the gate. She had teased me to within an inch of my life in those shows, and left me in such a frenzy I had to shag myself stupid to douse the fire. Every time I close my eyes I see her face the time she caught me naked and chained and waiting to get fucked. That beautiful expressive face that can say so much with just a glance spoke volumes to me in those few moments. Her eloquent blue eyes were filled to bursting with ravenous lust and desire, but she also looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was a gaze that wanted to own me completely, but didn't dare, and I swear I nearly came just from the emotional heat. I wanted her so much. I wanted to spread myself open for her and let her take me any way she wanted. I wanted Shayna to find us at it like devils, and cower in fear at the thousand degree flames of our desire. I wanted her to fuck me so hard I completely consumed her, and I wanted to come like an atomic fucking bomb, screaming the name of my blonde chainsmoking goddess, as we laid waste to the entire festival site.

But of course nothing happened. Just as nothing happened that rum soaked night on the bean bag. And nothing happened the night Anthea threw Shayna out of our camp. And nothing happened the day we took the tent down. To be honest we were all just too concerned about Effy, and whether she was going to end up back in hospital. And that I guess was the difference between them. Shayna was always looking out for herself, but Naomi would always put her tribe before her own needs. In addition to being spectacularly beautiful and infinitely fuckable, she was our leader for a reason, because she believed in us and only wanted the best for us. A part of me was hurting when she took Cassie to her truck that night instead of me, but mostly it just made me love her even more. I've never met anyone like her, and now being without her is nearly killing me.

Katie and I drove back to London with Anthea. I was up front and Katie was with Effy in the back. Neither of them spoke a word, but I kept looking round to check on them and I don't think they stopped holding hands the whole way. We stayed at Anthea's that night. Katie didn't want to leave Effy, and I didn't want Shayna coming round my flat and hassling me. I needed time away from her to work out how I was feeling. Anthea ordered take away and we all just slobbed around, drinking wine and having baths, watching rubbish TV and chatting. Well three of us were chatting at least. I only caught Effy saying one word, in an ad break when she turned to Katie, kissed her on the forhead and said, 'Thanks'. We were flying to Dubai the next day and I was almost looking forward to the relative normacly of a corporate silks gig, after all the insanity of the last week. Exhaustion finally took hold of Effy's thin frame and she fell asleep on one of the sofas. Anthea covered her up with a duvet and left her where she was.

"Sometimes she likes to sleep here with the television on," she said. "I think the sound of the voices helps to keep her own at bay."

Relieved of her charge, Katie went to bed not long after, leaving me and Anthea finishing off the wine.

"You know you're going to have to dump that cuntfucker, don't you, Emily," she said.

"I know," I laughed at Anthea's ever delicate turn of phrase.

"Good," said Anthea, picking up my phone from where I'd left it on the table and throwing it at me.

"What now?" I said.

"What? Are you going to wait until you're in Dubai and she can't get at you?"

"I'm not afraid of her, I just..."

Oh God, not the Stonem steely glare, _that_ I was afraid of.

"You're far too good for her, Emily, and you know it."

"I'm not sure I do know it."

"Well I do," said Anthea firmly. "So either you ring her and tell her to shove it up her tits, or I'll do it for you."

"I think you've done enough already," I giggled, and punched in Shayna's speed dial.

The next morning I had a hell of a job getting Katie to the airport. She didn't want to go, she wanted to stay with Effy. Katie wanting to blow out work because of a personal matter was almost unheard of, she had always been the professional machine. But I was fast coming to realise, that as much as Effy needed Katie, Katie needed Effy too. My sister had found out when she was just a teenager that she was never going to be able to have kids, and it hurt her more than anyone imagined. I think that's one of the reasons she swopped her boyfriends so regularly, she could never trust any of them with her secret. She thought they wouldn't understand. But Katie has a fiercly protective streak in her, and ever since she found out she has wanted, no needed someone to care for to prove to herself she is still worthwhile as a woman. It used to be me, but I grew up and got all badass and didn't want my big sister cramping my horny lesbian style. Effy must have seemed like a gift from the heavens. When every day was an exhausting struggle, she needed all the strength she could get to keep her from falling, and the powerhouse that was my sister had more than enough strength to spare. The force that had once threatened to overwhelm me, could be the very thing to rescue Effy and bring her back from the darkness. It was only when Effy herself assured Katie that she would be fine and insisted that Katie go, that she finally relented, and we got ready to leave. Just as we were about to head off to the tube, Katie held her friend in a close embrace for several minutes before placing their foreheads together and looking deep into her eyes.

"Stay alive," she told Effy. "I _will_ find you."

The morning's drama wasn't over. Shayna turned up at the airport with a huge bunch of flowers, full of apologies and begging for forgiveness. Katie wanted to pull an Anthea and punch her bloody lights out, but I managed to pull her back and said I'd deal with it. Shay started babbling on at me, but I just looked at her as the words washed over me. I felt nothing. There was nothing left. I looked at the ridiculous bunch of flowers and realised it was still all about appearences for her. I didn't love her. I didn't even like her any more. I couldn't even remember how it felt to feel excited by her. The thing that surprised me most is that I always thought I had drawn my power from Shayna, that being with her was what had made me cooler and more dynamic. But watching her plead for me to come back to her made me realise that I'd had it all along, that it was my power that had been feeding her. I waited for her to get angry, to start yelling, to try to claim me as she used to, but I realised that once I had withdrawn my compliance in that little game, she had nothing. I started to smile, I was worth more than being someone's little toy. I was going to save my power for someone who deserved it.

"Sorry Shayna," I said. "I'm not coming back."

I turned and started to walk towards the gate where Katie was waiting for me with our bags.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" she called after me in a final attempt to salvage her dignity. I didn't stop, but turned and continued to saunter away from her backwards, casually walking into my future.

"I'm Emily Fucking Fitch," I smiled. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I think they want us to go back in," I heard Katie's voice beside me.

Break over. Another day, another product launch. I turned away from the ferocious heat of the Dubai desert sun, the only thing that was sustaining me without the warmth of my love burning next to me, and went back inside. We were working in the lobby of one of those crazy over the top hotels they have over there, promoting some new car or other. I wasn't really interested in cars any more, just big old trucks with circus freaks living in them. We weren't on our own, we were part of a team of ten, all pretty girls, all dressed up to look like sea nymphs or some such shit. Wafting around on our cunting silks. I caught Katie's eye as our extremely camp director prattled on about the concept and what he wanted from us. I knew what she was thinking, I knew we were both hearing Anthea's voice in our heads, and imagining what she would make of it all. We must have looked like naughty schoolchildren, giggling at the back of the class. I knew I would be happy in the Circus Abandon world, I just never expected Katie to adapt to it so happily. I had a feeling that after this summer, neither of our lives would ever be quite the same again.

That evening after rehearsals I was staring out of the window of our high rise hotel room listening to Katie achieving the nearly impossible task of holding a phone conversation with Effy. Ok, so Katie was doing most of the talking, but there were definite gaps where Effy must have been saying something. That was a good sign. If all went well we were going to meet her in London on the way back, and then catch a domestic flight up to Scotland to meet with the others. We were going to be doing a week of workshops with kids and then a cabaret style show at a country fair at some stately home in the wilds, so it wasn't like we were going to be bringing her back into a hazardous environment. I think it would be good for all of us after the mayhem.

Naomi and I hadn't spoken or even texted since Glastonbury. There was just so much deep unresolved tension between us, that the phone would only have made it worse. I needed to see her, I needed to touch her, I needed to tell her the fucking truth. I needed to know if all the things I had felt and seen were just fucked up, drug fuelled Glastonbury madness, or if we were on the verge of something phenomenal. So I filled my days pretending to be a sea nymph, and spent my nights watching the sun go down over this crazy city full of extravagance, feeling as empty as the desert beyond, whilst the words scrawled across thousands upon thousands of tacky postcards across the globe burned themselves into my heart in letters of fire. Wish you were here. Wish you were here. Wish you were here.

Several days later there were butterflies the size of eagles in my stomach as we drove up the country lanes towards the grounds of the big house where the tent had gone up. JJ had come to fetch us in his van and was current treating us to a complete history of the house and it's role in Scottish politics. Katie was moaning about the weather having come from the ludicrous heat of Dubai. Effy had managed to persuade Anthea that she was well enough to come away with us again, and was sitting in the back of the van humming away to herself. And I was counting down the minutes until I would see the heavenly wonder that was Naomi Campbell again. We turned into some gates, and drove up a long driveway until a set of immaculate lawns opened out in front of us and the house rose into view. The tent stood in front of it, but something wasn't quite right. Half the walls were off, and the roof looked off-kilter and saggy.

"Whizzer, Fitchtastic," said Pandora, bounding up to us as we got out of the van. "We put the tent up but there's been some wicked gales, and it's kind of all gone on the wonk. We're trying to fix it now. Could use a little Fitch power. How was Dubai, by the way? I bet it was blinkin fabulous."

The wind was still fearsome, and I could see the others struggling with the side poles, in an attempt to stabilse the roof, so we forgot all pleasanteries and got stuck in. The side poles are two metre long pieces of scaffolding that hold the edges of the tent roof up, and are attached to stakes in the ground and held under tension using ratchet straps. Working in teams of two, one person would gently release the ratchet whilst the other person held the pole to stop it from falling. Then together we would reset the pole, and tighten it up again. It was hard work in the wind as it wanted to pull the canvas away from us, and we had to use all our strength to control it. I hadn't even had the chance to say hello to Naomi yet, but that was the way things were in the circus, if something needed doing, you just got on with it. As least I was in the same field as her again, and I could manage my fizzing anticipation a little while longer.

Finally I managed to catch her eye as Katie and I were moving between poles and her face lit up like the sunrise when she saw me. The smile that followed and the warmth that blazed from those incredible blue eyes nearly cut me down where I stood. Those eyes were fucking dangerous. She should need to get a licence for those eyes. I stood there breathless, hypnotised, grinning like an idiot, barely stopping myself from falling to my knees and worshipping her loveliness. The next thing I knew was a loud cracking sound followed by Naomi staggering sideways, clutching her head.

"Jesus Freddie, you useless cunt," she yelled at the boy clutching an open ratchet. "Are you trying to fucking kill me?"

He had opened the ratchet too quickly and basically fired the steel pole into the side of Naomi's head. We all rushed towards her, but she held up her hands to fend us off.

"You need to carry on and sort the tent out. I'm going to sit down for a bit, and If I need help I'll let you know."

It was hard to go back to work, when all I wanted to do was run over to her and wrap her in my arms and make her better, but I suspected that when Naomi Campbell told you she didn't want to be fussed over, you ignored it at your peril. About ten minutes later, I noticed her talking to Cook. He immediately got his phone out and made a call, looking worried. I dropped what I was doing, and went over to them. Cook was giving someone directions on how to get here, and Naomi did not look well at all.

"Are you OK, babe?" I asked her.

Stupid thing to say, she so clearly wasn't.

"Cook's calling an ambulance," she said, taking hold of my hand. "I think I might need to go to the hospital now. There are several symptoms they tell you to watch out for with severe concussion. I think I've got all of them."

The ambulance took an age to reach us, with Cook pacing up and down, and Naomi turning paler by the second. It turned out the nearest hospital was nearly twenty miles away. Fucking countryside. It finally turned up in a blaze of flashing lights and the paramedics loaded an increasingly shaky Naomi into the back once they had heard the story.

"We can take one of you with us," they said, and I instinctively stepped forwards to jump in with them until Cook placed his hand on my chest.

"I got this one, Red," he said.

"But I...."

I tried to push his hand away, but he resisted. I didn't understand. All I knew was that the women I loved was injured and I needed to be with her.

"It's not a fucking debate," said Cook, warning me. I was confused by the harsh tone in his voice. He had never spoken to me like that before. What the fuck was going on?

"She's my partner too," he said, before spinning away from me and jumping in the back of the ambulance.

"Come along, Emily," said Thomas as I stood rooted to the spot, watching the receding vehicle. "We need to finish the tent. I'm sure Cook will phone us as soon as there's any news."

I heard him but I stood there frozen unable to comply. How did he expect me to move when my blood was no longer pumping through my veins? When the organ that propelled it was with Naomi and Cook, being carried away in a speeding ambulance?


	17. 17 The Redhead at the Side of the Bed

**A/N Thanks to everyone who sent their good wishes, thankfully everyone is on the road to recovery. And now some good news, we have a new circus baby. Little Zak born on Friday and cute as hell. This chapter goes out especially to KairiM - who sparked this whole idea off in my head when she wrote about concussion in one of her stories. This is my version...enjoy. xx**

**I don't own Skins, but I love it.....**

17. The Redhead at the Side of the Bed

Naomi.

I wake up. At least I think I'm awake. I'm not sure. There doesn't seem to be much difference between this and being asleep. Except there's fog. And pain. Lots of pain. Pain in the side of my head. Pain in the back of my neck. I can't really see properly, the fog is too thick. I can feel the rest of my body, but only vaguely at best. Everything is about my head. And my fucking head is killing me. It feels like my brain is to big to fit inside my skull and it keeps pushing, trying to get out. There's no relief from the pressure. I want to raise my arms and pull at my hair, but I can't quite work out how to connect to the right muscles. The fog seems to be messing that up too. I try to get stuff into focus, there's something not quite right about this place. I don't recognise the colours. I don't recognise the light. Fuck, I don't know where I am. I start to panic. I thrash my head to the side, but way too quickly and the pain explodes in my brain momentarily blinding me once more. Fuck. What's happening? How did I get here, and why don't I fucking work? I feel a sudden pressure on my arm. It's gentle. It's comforting. I take a few moments to focus, before turning my head, slowly this time towards the source of the sensation. I still can't see too clearly through the fog but at last there's something to cling to. A colour I recognize. Red. I know that it's good. I know that colour will keep me safe. I still don't know where I am, but I know I'm not alone. There's something about that red that I can trust. With my life. I start to relax, and slip away back into sleep.

* * *

My eyelids slowly start to drift open again. They're heavy, so fucking heavy. And then my fat, fat brain starts complaining again. Why on earth am I trying to squeeze it into this tiny space. Has my skull fucking shrunk or something? It feels like someone has inserted a tent stake into the side of my head right by my left eye. I need to make it stop. This time I manage to move my arms and bring them up to my head. I start rubbing it furiously and pulling at my hair as if that will help to increase the size of my skull. It provides a little relief but not enough. I feel the tears start to well in my eyes. I still don't understand what's happening to me, and I still don't know where the fuck I am. I start to smack myself on my own forehead as if that will be able to knock some sense into me. Another pair of hands gently close around mine, and pull them back down to my sides. Those same hands then push my hair away from my face, and start to softly stroke my forehead. The pain still fills most of my consciousness, but that touch provides a welcome distraction. Then I hear that voice, that beautiful deep husky voice that sounds better than the most exquisite music in my ears.

"It's OK, honey" she says. "You're going to be OK."

I force my eyes to focus through the fog and gaze upon that same comforting shade of red. I believe her. I'm going to be OK. Because she's here. The effort of trying to keep my eyes open becomes to much, and I let go again.

* * *

This time when I drift back into consciousness, it's the voices that register first. Two people talking. They're talking about me. I can't quite work out what they're saying, but they sound concerned. Not I'm gonna die type concerned, but lovingly concerned. If only they could make the pain go away then everything would be better. OK, I'm fucking well going to get my eyes to open properly this time. I squint to try to clear the fog. I'm in a bed. A strange bed, in a strange room. I've never seen this room before. It's cosy, with kind of old-fashioned furniture and decorations. I know I don't belong here, but there has to be a reason I am here. I turn towards the source of the voices, and relief floods through my body. Apart from my Mum they are the two people I love most in the world, Cook and Emily. This is good. They are my 'lost in the jungle' people. If I was gonna end up lost in the jungle or on a desert island they are the people I'd most want to get stuck with. Whatever the fuck was going on here, they're gonna be able to help me out. Time to try to speak.

"Where the fuck am I?" I manage to croak.

The pair of them are at my side like a shot.

"Do you remember what happened?" asks Cook

"If I remembered what happened, then I'd know where the fuck I was, don't you think?" I snap at him.

Emily just laughs.

"Patient appears to have recovered full sarcasm functions," she giggles.

"That's my Naomikins," says Cook, squeezing my hand.

"You're in one of the cottages in the grounds of the big house," says Emily. "When they let us take you home from the hospital, the owners said you could recover in here where it's peaceful."

Hospital? Oh yeah, I remember now. I got a tent pole fired into the side of my head. I remember being in the hosptial. I remember being x-rayed. I remember they were worried that I'd fractured my skull. But then they were telling me I was going to be OK, laughing and joking about my excellent thick skull. I was badly concussed, but I would recover just fine if I rested. If I had known just how very far from ok this was going to feel, I would have told them to shove their jokes up their arse. I try to struggle into a sitting position, but I am too weak, and cry out in frustration. Emily leans forward towards me.

"What do you need, Hun?" she asks me.

"I need to stop feeling this shit," I snap back at her.

Shit, I didn't mean to do that. All of a sudden I burst into tears. What the fuck? I'm Naomi Campbell, I don't do fucking tears. Have I suddenly got no control over anything any more? I've never felt so helpless in all my life. Emily takes one of my hands in hers, brings it up to her lips and lightly kisses the back of it. With her free hand, she starts stroking my forehead again. She doesn't offer me any platitudes, she knows me well enough to know that would only make me angrier. I focus all the energies I can muster on her touch. It makes the pain bearable for a while.

"Do you think you could manage to eat something?" she asks me.

I think about it. I'm not hungry. Instinctively I shake my head. Big fucking mistake. I swear, and start crying again.

"You should try to eat something," insists Cook. "You've been pretty much out of it for two days."

TWO DAYS?!! I thought those lucid interludes had been minutes apart, not hours. Bugger. Cook gets up and leaves, to get me food I suppose. The fog is getting thicker again. I'm so tired. I somehow manage to roll onto my side towards the redhead at the side of the bed. I want her to hold me. I want to tell her that's what I need, but the effort of turning has exausted me, and I feel the walls shoring up my consciousness beginning to collapse.

* * *

I am curled up into a foetal position, my arms curled up round my head. Now there's a pain in my stomach to go with the one in my head. It's hunger. For fuck's sake how long have I been out for this time? I put my hands on the sides of my head and pull my skin upwards with my palms, then start scratching compulsively all around my skull. A soft hand curls around my bicep. I know who it is even before her sexy voice cuts through the fog.

"Naoms, are you alright, Babe?" she asks me.

I almost give her another blast of my sarcasm skills, but then I realise she has pretty much not left my side whilst I've been injured. At least it seems that way. Every time I wake up she's there, waiting, just waiting to see if I need her. God, if she only knew just how much I need her. I hate being vulnerable, and I hate showing it to anyone else even more, but all I want to do is to beg her not to leave me alone. It doesn't seem likely though. I think about the way Katie is with Effy. It seems that once a Fitch takes you under her wing, she never gives up on you. You have to love them for that. I roll onto my back. At least my limbs seem to be co-operating a little better today. The fog lifts momentarily as I look up and see her smiling down at me. Her soft brown eyes are full of love. I want to pull her down towards me and have her kiss away the pain, but all I can do stare back up at her.

"I'm hungry," I say.

"Well that's an improvement," she says, her smile increasing in warmth until I can almost sunbathe in it's glow. She will save me, I know she will.

* * *

It's bright when I open my eyes again, not just from the sunshine that streams in through the window of the cottage, but the fog seems to have lifted. It hurts, but at least I no longer want to pull my own head off leaving behind my bloodied stump of a neck. I even manage a bit of a smile. I'm lying on my side and I roll over. I want to share the good news with Emily, but there's something wrong with this picture. She's not there. Panic sets in immediately, and the pressure in my brain increases to bursting point once more. Fuck. Where is she? I thrash about in the bed, looking wildly around me for the flash of red that means that I am safe. I can't find her anywhere. I claw at the covers. I have to get out of here. I have to find her.

"Stop," says a voice, just as I am about to fall out of the bed. It is a familiar voice, but I have never heard it command such authority before. Effy.

"She's working. She's teaching a workshop," she says. "So I'm afraid it's just the Fucked in the Head Club for now."

I look towards the source of the voice. Effy is sat in the window seat, her arms curled round her legs as usual.

"She hasn't abandoned you. They don't do that."

She smiles at me reassuringly. I know what's she's thinking and it's a nice reverse for once. It's OK to be vulnerable if a Fitch has got your back, cause they'll always be there to help you get stronger. They may be small in stature, but their spirits are immense and powerful. Effy and I sit in a silent communion, and for the first time I really get her. We don't need to talk, we don't need to touch, but that doesn't mean there's nothing going on. In my messed up state I can get a hint of Effy's altered sense of perception, and I know we are both praising the day the Fitch twins walked into our lives.

* * *

The next time I woke up, Emily was back again. The redhead at the side of the bed, as if she had always been there. As if that was where she belonged. Now that I was slightly more compis mentis, the rest of the troupe took turns coming to visit, but Emily was my constant. My guardian angel. She fed me, she helped me to the toilet. She ran a bath for me and waited outside, knocking every couple of minutes to make sure I hadn't passed out and drowned. The pain was still ever present, but the fog was now almost fully lifted, and I could hold short conversations, and occasionally focus for long enough to watch a bit of a dvd on Emily's laptop. Everything was

exhausting though, and I still found myself needing to sleep a lot. In between times Emily would read to me, or just sit and hold my hand. She must have the patience of a saint, cause I'd been in bed for nearly a week now, but she was always there for me. I liked the way she didn't fuss, just waited for me to ask for what I needed. And because she didn't fuss, I was able to ask for it without resentfulness. I am a terrible patient, I hate being injured. I always try to do things before I'm ready. But Emily's gentle watchfulness helped me to understand just how hard my brain had been smacked about, and I would just have to let my recovery run it's course.

I knew things were starting to look up when I started _noticing_ her again. Not just as my fuzzy saviour, but as the unspeakably gorgeous woman I was completely in love and lust with. I could feel a tingle in between my legs when she read to me in that deliciously husky voice. I would sneak a quick peek down her top when she leaned over me to fluff my pillows. Sometimes I even welcomed a pain attack, cause it would lead to her softly stroking my forehead again. Sometimes it was just enough to lie there with her holding my hand, feeling her energy and buzzing from it as if she were recharging my broken body from her own source. I realised that this was how I wanted my life to be, that I just wanted Emily to be with me. I wanted to take her away from that bitch Shayna and show her a more beautiful way to love. Not that I know much about it, I've never been one for outward shows of emotion, and most of my relationships have been functional rather than romantic. But there's nothing remotely functional about the way I feel about Emily Fitch. It's ridiculous, foolish, impractical, uncontrollable, hot-blooded, passionate and dangerous, and yet I am dying to throw myself into it's jaws. I want to confess everything to her, to open myself up completely and tell her how much I want her and love her and need her. But not when I'm like this. Not when I'm just half the woman I can be. I want to be strong enough to show her exactly how much she means to me. I don't want to give her any choice but to love me back, and I want to love her so hard she'll never want to look at another girl again.

* * *

It's getting easier to drag myself back into consciousness. And this time I drift back happily with a smile on my face, a warm glow in my heart and a dampness between my thighs. I'd been dreaming about Emily again. We had been kissing. And that was about it really, good old-fashioned snogging like when you get your first ever boyfriend when you're a young teenager and snogging is all you do. Except no teenage boy was ever as good as I knew Emily would be. Soon, I told myself, I'll kiss her soon and then I'll know. I was about to force my eyes open so I could get a glimpse of the gorgeous lips I'd just been tasting in my dream, when suddenly it hit me that something wasn't right. There was a hand encasing my own, but it was the wrong hand. It was far too big, and too soft. It didn't have the ridge of callouses across the top of the palm from gripping onto the trapeze. It was not Emily's hand. My eyes snapped open so I could investigate the offending object. I stared at it as though it was a tarantula about to bite. It was a male hand. What the fuck was a man doing holding my hand? It felt wrong. Even though I recognised it. Shit. Justin. I'd forgetten about him. My gaze flashed up to find him looking down at me. Justin was at the side of the bed. No that was wrong, that was Emily's place. I pulled my hand away from his, his touch felt alien, intrusive. What the fuck? Ok, so I know we were never love's young dream, but this guy had been my boyfriend for the last six months, how could he feel so unattractive to me now? He leaned down to kiss me on the cheek and it was all I could do not to shrink away from him. Oh God, was it actually true that Emily could totally 'gay you up' as Pandora would put it? I hadn't even slept with her yet. Shit I hadn't even had my tongue in her mouth, let alone my fingers in her....Get a grip, Naomi. The man who was supposed to be my partner was at the side of my bed, and all I could think of was how much I wished it was her.

"I came as soon as I could," he said softly.

Fuck it, why did you have to come at all?

"I want to get up," I told him.

It was Saturday lunchtime and the fair was just starting to kick off. I remembered that Justin was always going to be here, as he was doing his street show later in the day. I made him take me straight to the tent, ostensibly so I could show the whole gang how much better I was, but really I was just looking for my girlfriend. Whoa! Hold that thought Campbell. Did you just mentally call Emily your girlfriend? You may be a fully paid up member of the Fucked in the Head Club, but you can't go starting to twist reality like that. Emily's girlfriend is a South London gangsta cokehead, and I'm going out with a wimpy street performer who wears stripey trousers. Seriously Ems, we are going to have to do something about that. It looked like she was thinking the same thing thing because as soon as she saw me, she ran up and put her arms around me. Suddenly she clocked Justin and realised that her embrace must have seemed a little too proprietorial, so she opened it up and drew him into the hug too. That must have fucking killed her, I know how I felt when Shayna broke into our little bubble. She tried to disguise it, but as we broke from the embrace, she let her hand glide across my ass, and the shockwave of pleasure made me stagger and grab hold of her for balance. Emily Fitch, you are so fucking bad, and it makes me want you like crazy.

"Are you OK, sweetheart?" Justin asks me.

"Yeah sure, just a little dizzy," I reply.

"Do you want to go and lie down?" he says.

"No I fucking don't," I snap at him. "I've been lying down for a fucking week. I want to go and see my people."

I stormed off into the tent, but as I went I heard Emily apologising to Justin behind me.

"She doesn't like being injured. It makes her a little cranky."

I hear the smirk in her voice, and as I picture it on her face my bad mood evaporates in an instant.

The rest of the gang were warming up getting ready for the show and were overjoyed to see me up on my feet again. I felt a little pang of anxiousness though. I should have been getting ready with them. Ok, so it was only a cabaret show, with people doing their acts in a regular circus style (we didn't think the audience at the country fair were quite ready for the sex and violence of the main show just yet), but I still wanted to be out there with them. I didn't want to be fucking grounded. I wanted to feel the breeze rushing through my hair as I swung on my cloudswing, and I wanted to get on my doubles bar and feel the strong limbs of my Fabulous Fitch twin working in perfect harmony with my own. Instead I sat in the audience watching her as she wrapped herself round her silks with her sister. I realised that despite all my bitching when Cook first told me he'd invited them to join us, I never actually seen them working together live, and I was forced to admit that they were really fucking good. Difficult moves were performed with absolute precision and grace, and of course the audience were loving it. It was true, they _were_ fucking fabulous. I was sandwiched between Justin and Effy, but felt much closer to my fucked in the head girl as we both gazed up at the sisters who were the only ones who could reach us, who could find us when we were lost. Justin tried to put his arm around me but I shivered it off. I felt Effy glancing sideways at me, and I turned to meet her eyes. So often, at moments like this she would break her silence with some choice phrase or snippet of wisdom. This time, she didn't need to say anything at all.

**Ok, here comes the part that you don't like...we have finished our shows in Brussels, and tomorrow we have to start taking the tent down and we are moving to Toulouse in the South of France, which means several days without internet access or power for the laptop of doom. I will miss you, I will try not to get whacked around the head with a tent pole, and I promise you this...the next one will be worth the wait.**


	18. 18 The Belly of the Fire

**A/N Hello again, here I am back in the clutches of modern technology, and here is the chapter I promised you. I hope you like it. This one goes out to those of you I messaged whilst I was drunk at our party last night. You know who you are and I hope this brings you joy. To everyone else who reads and sends me comments - I hope it was worth the wait.**

**Love Hypes xx**

18. The Belly of the Fire

Emily

Today could be the best day of my life. Or the worst. I had woken up this morning feeling nauseous and shaky, but I wasn't sick, it was just the anticipation. They say when one half of an identical twin pair gets hurt, the other one can feel it. Katie and I aren't identical, but we still have some kind of connection that is stronger than the norm. But when Naomi got whacked on the head a part of me felt the impact directly. I was so terrified when she got taken away in the ambulance, especially when Cook pulled rank on me. Those few hours waiting to hear from him had felt like days. Days of unmitigated torture. I smoked like Anthea and snapped at anyone who came near me. When JJ got the call to come and bring her back to us, I simply gave him no choice but to let me go with him. The poor boy looked terrified, but I wasn't going to let anyone get in my way again. When I saw her slumped on that hospital chair leaning against Cook, technically conscious but so out of it she hardly knew where she was, a physical pain ripped through my chest. I ran over to them and Naomi pratically fell towards me as if I were the one thing that would keep her alive. I turned to Cook as I held her in my arms. He looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry about earlier, babe," he said. "I was freaked. She means the fucking world to me."

"I know," I said softly to show I wasn't angry with him. I understood. She means the fucking world to me too.

When we got back I felt I had to do everything in my power to make her feel better. I think I made a difference, at least I hope I did. That week I spent nursing her, I felt our connection growing stronger, even though she was a pale ghost of the woman she normally is. Even when Justin turned up it scarcely mattered. I couldn't even be bothered to be jealous of him. I had to keep reminding myself that she wasn't officially mine, we behaved so much more like a couple than they did. As she started to get better there was an electricity sparking between me and Naomi that completely eclipsed her invisible relationship with him. I know she didn't finish with him, I guess she just wasn't well enough to deal with the fallout. But I also know she didn't sleep with him. Even when she moved back into her truck she made him sleep in his van, playing the concussion card so she could be alone.

Except she wasn't alone. Every night I was sending her waves upon waves of fabulous Fitch love from the caravan, wishing I was there to hold her tight and soothe the pain away. Ok, so a little bit of fabulous Fitch lust might also have been making an appearence, but I told myself forcefully not to make any kind of move whilst she was still vulnerable. And Justin? I felt absolutely no guilt or shame. I'd never liked him in the first place, and now? Quite frankly I was just waiting for him to leave. If that makes me a bad person, I don't care. If it gets me Naomi Campbell, I will willingly abandon myself to pure evil. And tonight might be the very night I get to dance with the devil.

We took the tent down in a leisurely fashion, with Naomi banished to the sidelines, moaning and grumbling about feeling like a spare part. I had my reasons for being strict with her, and they weren't entirely honourable. You see I needed her to get better. Something had been planned for a while that I needed her to be fit for. JJ's uncle lived in the Channel Islands and ran a little local show every summer. It was a real old school kind of a deal with homemade cake stalls and giant vegetable competitions, but because of JJ he had also started to include lots of circus performance stuff, and a bunch of JJ's mates would go over for the crack. There was no money in it, just travel expenses and stuff, but as a favour to JJ we said that a few of us would go over this year. Obviously JJ and Freddie were the first choicewith their juggling act, but there was also a big tree somewhere on the site strong enough to rig from so we thought it would be nice to do some aerial for them. Some of us had to stay behind to put the tent up for our next gig, so it had been decided just to send me and Naomi to do doubles, then I would do silks and she would do hoop. Don't get me wrong, my enthusiasm to ensure that Naomi was well enough to perform at this event had nothing to do with some outdated 'show must go on' mentality, in fact I'm usually against that kind of thing. There's always another show, but you've only got one body and you have to look after it. No, my reasons were far more nefarious. You see, the vehicles were going to stay with the tent and we were going to fly to Guernsey. And because of the limited budget we were going to be camping in a field at the back of JJ's uncles. In tents. And I was going to be sharing a tent with Naomi.

After pulldown we parted company with Justin. Everyone else was taking the vehicles on towards the next site whilst Naomi and I were going to London to train. I watched shamelessly as Naomi and Justin said their brief farewells, but I didn't feel too bad about it. I knew I was being watched as well.

"Any pearls of wisdom before I leave you?" I whispered, knowing full well that she would somehow hear me, even if she wasn't standing right next to me.

"I've given you everything you need, Emily," said Effy. "The rest is up to you."

I didn't even need to turn round to know that she would be smirking at me, but I did it anyway. Bloody Effy genius mental bucket Stonem. Between Anthea's being more of a mother to me than Jenna ever was, and Katie's increasing devotion to her adopted sister, the Fitch-Stonems were becoming quite a unit. I pulled Effy into a heartfelt embrace, she really was part of my true family now.

"Tell Anthea I'm going to get better," she told me. "Really better."

"Have you seen it?" I asked. I knew there was no logical explanation for it, but sometimes I truly believed Effy was gifted with foresight.

"Yes I have," she replied.

I resisted the nearly all-consuming temptation to ask her if Naomi and I would get it together. Like she said, it was up to me now.

When we got to London I brought Naomi to Anthea's and she stayed in Effy's room. Yes, I was still being good, there would be no ravishing here. If I really was the luckiest girl alive and Naomi actually felt the same as me, then the pair of us had been behaving like saints for months. Respecting our working relationship, respecting each other's partnerships, putting each other's feelings before our own. Bollocks to that. Our time for being good was coming to a close. Time to take what was ours. After a couple of days when Naoms was looking much better and I didn't think she was going to drop me on my head, we went to an aerial centre and did some training. She got tired quickly, but she was OK. All fucking systems go. Operation Small Canvas Shag Palace you are cleared for take-off.

On the day of the flight the tension was threatening to tear me limb from limb.

"Are you scared of flying?" JJ had asked me at the airport. "You seem pale, and unnaturally quiet."

No, not scared of flying, just terrified of taking that final step into paradise. Naomi had barely looked at me all day. Was she in the same state I was, or was she just trying to encourage me not to get any funny ideas? My confidence started draining with each descending foot on the altimeter till by the time our undercarriage touched the tarmac I had convinced myself that the whole thing was an illusion, and that all the tiny signals I had been clinging onto were just the wishful imaginings of my fevered hyperactive libido.

JJ's uncle took the four of us, and a couple of other performers who had been on the same flight back to his place to set up camp. A few people were already there, some of whom I knew and other's who were mates of JJ and Fred's, but who seemed quite chilled. It looked like it was going to be quite a fun gig, especially when JJ's uncle Charlie piled the whole lot of us into the back of his van and took us to the main town to get some food in a cool looking ancient pub. It was great hanging out in a big gang of performers, it always is, but my hidden agenda was burning away at my very core, hollowing me out from the inside. I kept trying to catch Naomi's eye, but she always seemed to be engaged with someone else, and all my fears rose up like an army of zombies from the grave. Slow and stupid, but so many and so massive they threatened to consume me. No matter how fast you run there will always be a thousand more of the fuckers waiting round the next corner with nothing in their tiny brains but to devour your flesh, or turn you into a half dismembered soldier in the army of the living dead. I had nothing left in my armoury but to get a little bit too pissed too quickly, so that when I returned from the toilet to find Naomi absent from the group, my body simply overrode my brain and compelled me to go and look for her.

I checked the beer garden first. I knew my quarry well enough to know that smoking would always be an issue for her, and there she was slouched against a wall bathed in the orange glow of an outdoor heater, looking like a pikey Aphrodite, fag in one hand, mobile in the other and an 'I'm not here to be fucked with' expression in her eye. I don't think I'd ever seen a more beautiful sight in all my life. She was exquisite, she was fucking perfect. Yeah, she looked like my idea of a goddess, but she was a human woman just like me who lost her rag sometimes, had scuzzy period knickers at the back of her drawer, and couldn't really function if she had to get up before ten in the morning. It was her flaws that made her perfect. Her grumpiness, her sarcasm, her control freakery were just as much a part of her gorgeous whole as her vision, her talent and her beauty. At that moment I knew that this wasn't some stupid infatuation, it never had been. I wanted all of her, the rough with the smooth, the dark with the light, the devil with the angel. It was time to stake my claim. If only I could fucking move.

The music on the outdoor speakers swelled to fill my brain. It was Amy Winehouse singing 'You Know That I'm No Good'. The sleazy tones of her fucked up genius made me smile. Yeah, we were all fucked up, but it didn't mean we couldn't love. Naomi and I might have been acting like saints, but deep in my heart I knew that we weren't. We were bad, and we were beautiful for it, and it was time I just fucking accepted that. Time to find my lion heart and be brave. Fuck it, I cannot live a lie any more. I love her, and she has to know that. I have to walk into the belly of the fire without flinching. And I have to do it now.

I walked over to her. Live or die, fight or fuck, triumph or abandon, I had to face my destiny and a stampeding herd of wildebeest could not have held me back. She glanced up at me.

"Hey Ems," she said. "How's it going?"

"No," I said. "No fucking small talk."

I took her mobile from her hand and put it in my pocket. I took the fag right out of her mouth and threw it on the ground.

"Just give me a...." I said. "Just give me a fucking..."

In one smooth movement I reached up, curled my right hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her down into a kiss. Just like in Cabaret Extreme and in every one of my fantasies, she was waiting for me, lips slightly parted, ready to accept the delicate connection of our flesh. The surge of emotion hit me like a tidal wave and nearly knocked me off my feet. The kiss only lasted seconds, but it changed fucking everything.

"Oh," said Naomi, looking me right in the eye. You might have thought it was a strange and underwhelming reaction to the life defining moment we had been creeping towards ever since I first laid eyes on her, but I didn't blame her. I didn't have the words for it either. She leant in and kissed me again, and this time it was me who was left stunned and speechless. Her lips were so soft and beautiful against my own, but the physical sensations were dwarfed by the seismic shift that was occuring in my soul. I had expected terrified rejection, or uncontrollable passion. I had never expected this. We kissed again, and we kissed like lovers. Lovers who had known each other. Lovers who had met each others souls. Lovers for whom sex was more than sex, it was communion. Her arms had slipped around me, and as we kissed our beautiful intimate lovers kiss I wondered how it could possibly be like this. How could we both just fucking know? My brave blonde warrior had vanquished my army of zombies at a stroke, and everything about me was screaming this was right. Then it occurred to me. We were already lovers. We had been making love for months. Ever since the first time she had taken my hands and held me in the air, and every time since. With every catch we made, every time I wrapped myself around her, every time we had kissed and pretended we didn't mean it. Every time her strong muscles had pulled me towards her. Every time I had suspended myself from her, putting my trust in her completely. Every time we had clung onto each other through the pain of muscle strains, rope burns and bruises, knowing that we would rather feel that burn than ever let our partner down.

We broke the kiss and fell into each other's arms, clinging on as tightly as if we were twenty metres in the air. That embrace spoke more than thousands of words could manage. There is an opinion in theoretical physics that postulates the existence of countless numbers of parallel universes. I felt like until now I'd been somehow stuck in the wrong one. Some stupid universe in which me and Naomi were not together. That's why everything had felt out of phase, so similar in every way to my real world but missing one vital element. This. Her. And no space in between us. I couldn't let her go. I was terrified that if I did the gates between dimensions would open again and I would be sucked back in to that terrible other universe where I never got to taste her skin. The song was still playing in the fading light of the garden. I guess it would be 'our' song from now on.

"I told you I was trouble," I whispered in her ear.

I could feel her smiling.

"This kind of trouble I like," she said, pulling back out of the embrace and staring at me with those dangerous blue eyes again. I was completely captivated.

"Breathe, Ems," she told me. "I don't want to lose you now."

I smiled back at her suddenly remembering that my lungs actually did need air. She shook her head and looked away as if my smile was almost too much for her, but I put my hand on her cheek and pulled her back in for another one of those beautiful kisses. Her soft lips were parted and I wanted nothing more than to feel them pressing gently against me, but I held it there. I knew that if I let her tongue into my mouth I would lose it completely and let her take me right there on the picnic tables in front of all the smokers. I got the feeling she was holding back for exactly the same reasons. So we kissed, just kissed, the rest of the world a dim and distant memory until I felt a shiver run down my spine. I wasn't sure if it was from the cold, or just from the delicious sensations of the unparalleled intimacy I was sharing which the woman I loved, but Naomi ran her hand down my arm.

"You've got goosebumps, Hun," she said. "Maybe we should go back inside and find the others."

I've got goosebumps becasue you're kissing me, I wanted to yell at her. I fucking adore you, and you're kissing me. But I stayed silent and she squeezed my hand as we made our way back into the pub. This time it was different. She might have been talking to other people, but she kept shooting glances in my direction, the advanced weaponry in her hypnotic blue flashing at me everytime she caught my eye. I barely touched my wine, I was drunk enough already. Drunk on Naomi Campbell.

Eventually it was chucking out time and we started to straggle our way back out to the car park where Charlie's van was. Getting a big gang of drunken performers to do anything in a collectively coherent fashion is virtually impossible, and I got bored of waiting for people to get their shit together, so I called shotgun for the front seat and went on ahead. I walked round to the passenger side of the van and leant against it, cursing them for delaying the journey home even a second longer than was necessary. It wasn't long till Naomi appeared around the corner. She walked straight towards me and didn't stop until she had me pressed back into the side of the van, with one of her gorgeous thighs sliding it's way in between my own.

"You are so fucking beautiful," she said earnestly, and kissed me forcefully, her tongue slipping straight into my mouth. This time I let her in, I didn't have much of a choice really. The body of the van was shielding us from the rest of the group and Naomi was on fire. She wasn't going to stop until she got wanted, and what she wanted was me crushed against her body, letting her take me over.

Now it comes. The lust. And God how it comes. Rising up, volcanic in intensity. She puts her hands on my body and it fucking explodes inside of me. All of a sudden I'm so wet I've got Niagara Falls in my pants. Naomi keeps kissing me and thrusting her leg up against me, until I'm gasping for breath, and desperately trying not to moan so loud I alert our approaching friends to the conflagration of desire erupting on the opposite side of the van. She couldn't stop pushing her lips against mine. She wrapped her hands into my hair and thrust her tongue deeper into me. I opened myself up for her, drawing her in, accepting her. I grabbed her beautiful ass and started pulling her harder against me, drinking from her desire and letting it feed my own. Any doubts I ever had that this might be a one way street were shattered beyond redemption as she managed to drag herself away from her invasion of my mouth for long enough to whisper in my ear.

"I want you so fucking much," she growled.

Yes, growled. For this was animal Naomi I was dealing with now. She grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, exposing my neck. She licked and bit me. Hard. My hips bucked hard against her in response and I could hear her moan as she exhaled. She had given herself over to the lust and she wanted to drag me with her. I was going to let her.

The sound of voices approaching finally made her pull away, but her eyes never left me. She continued to look me up and down hungrily, practically slavering at the thought of what she was going to do to me once she got me back to that tent. Even in everyday situations I had found myself daydreaming about her hotness, but this was something else. Predatory Naomi was seriously fucking sexy and I wanted to let her do any fucking thing she liked. I have slept with a lot of women. A lot of gorgeous women. But I had never felt like this before. This girl could fucking ruin me.

The drive back to the village where we were staying allegedly took twenty minutes, but I swear whole civilisations could have risen and fallen in the time it took to get there. Naomi's hand was resting against my thigh, conveniently hidden under Uncle Charlie's map of France and her touch seared into me like a branding iron. I swear there was a real danger I was going to overheat. Spontaneous Human Combustion was no longer a mystery. All it needed was a lust driven Naomi Campbell's hand upon your thigh. When we got back to the field there was talk of a campfire, but I cited Naomi's recent concussion and declined the offer. There were going to be flames enough inside our tent. This was it. The Belly of the Fire.

The moment I had closed the zip of the tent behind us she was on me, pushing me down into our sleeping bags and straddling me, tearing at my clothes between kisses. She pulled me up towards her and dragged my jacket off. She threw me back down and pushed my top up exposing the flesh on my belly, which she proceeded to kiss feverishly, her hands sliding upwards towards my breasts.

"Fucking hell," she exclaimed as she reached the soft mounds of flesh and the thin layer of lace that covered them. Yes I was wearing my poshest underwear just in case, but I didn't think that was going to matter now. Naomi was out of control. She frantically undid the back of my bra and pushed it aside so she could feel my bare skin beneath her fingertips. I arched my back and pushed my tits further up into her palms. It drove her fucking crazy. Her mouth descended upon me and she sucked hard on my nipple causing waves of pleasure to spasm through my whole body. I thrust my hips up against hers, making her groan against my flesh. It was a serious fucking turn on that I could do this to her, that I could make her want me so much. It was my turn to growl.

"Get your clothes off and fuck me right now," I commanded.

She was on it like a bullet, clothes flying everywhere as she struggled to comply in the shortest time possible.

"I need you inside me, Baby," I said, knowing it would make her frenzy even wilder.

I wasn't wrong. She tore the last remaining shreds of clothing from our bodies, and brought us together skin to skin. It was unbelievable. She wrapped her self around me and possessed me with a deep penetrating kiss.

"Oh," I said as her mouth left mine to explore other areas of my body. This time it was me who had been stupified by a kiss. The beast that was animal Naomi had now been fully unleashed. She pinned my arms above my head, and left a trail of kisses and bites across my shoulders, neck and face. I could feel how wet she was as her actions made me squirm beneath her weight and push my leg up against her crotch. It made me think about fucking her, and that made me squirm even harder, shoving my tit up into her waiting mouth and watching as she ran her tongue across my hard nipple. It was all too much for Naomi. She released her grip on my hands and raked her nails down the inside of my thigh. She plunged two fingers straight into me, sucking down even harder on my breast.

The sensation was so good it was almost unbearable and I writhed uncontrollably beneath her, thrusting my hips towards her hand and then pushing my tits harder against her ravenous mouth. I spread my legs wide open for her, I spread my mouth wide open for her. I wanted her to penetrate me, to own me, to devour me. And devour me she did, pushing her fingers hard and deep into my hot, swollen cunt again and again, taking me without mercy. My heart was pounding as it struggled to deliver enough blood to feed the nerve endings that were singing as they never had before. God, she felt good. I grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and pulled her mouth towards mine, praying for her to invade me with her beautiful tongue once more. She didn't disappoint me, filling me up without once disrupting the beautiful rhythm of her fingers and hips. I couldn't get enough of her. "Fuck, Naoms," I gasped as she used her weight to push herself harder and deeper inside of me. It only made her fuck me faster. I could feel the pressure building inside of me, and I know she could feel it too. Her blue eyes shone as they bore as deep into my soul as her fingers were doing to my body. That's where I saw the Belly of the Fire and had the guts to look straight into it. She fucking loved me. I could feel it.

"I wanna watch you come," she said breathlessly.

"Oh Jesus, Babes," I cried as I felt myself hurtling towards orgasm. "You're gonna....I'm gonna....Shit....."

I completely lost it then, thrashing about wildly as I threw myself into the mindblowing orgasm that ripped right through me. She rode it with me, pushing me and pushing me until I couldn't fucking stand it anymore. There was so much love in her eyes as she watched every second of the way she made me come for her. I felt myself close around her as I thrust myself against her for one final hit before letting go of the most intense and amazing sensations I had ever experienced. She was fucking incredible. So much better than any fantasy, simply because I could never have projected these feelings. Simply because I never knew it was possible to feel this good.

She pulled herself out and collapsed against me, her fingers still wandering across my breasts as if they held a magnetic attraction for her. There was no time for words as I started to kiss her fiercely, and rolled her onto her back. I sat up straddling her, taking a moment to savour her naked beauty in all it's glory. My poor heart had no chance to rest from its frantic beatings as I thought about how wet she was, about how she wanted me as much as I had wanted her and about how very soon I was going to be fucking the living daylights out of her. Animal Emily was about to be let out of her cage. I leant down and traced patterns across her belly with my tongue which I then retraced with my lips. Her body shook and quivered under my touch. Oh, I was going to enjoy this. I explored her whole body with my lips and my tongue and my teeth, sending her insane with desire. She knew I was going to fuck her, she just didn't know when, and she revelled in the fevered anticipation, giving me her body to play with as I wished.

I kissed and nibbled at her inner thighs, making her push her hips up eagerly towards me. I stopped with my mouth resting just above her clitoris.

"Oh God, Ems please," she gasped at me as I teased her, using only my hot breath to tickle and stimulate her. Then without warning, I flicked my tongue just once across her clit, before moments later entering her gorgeous cunt. Just one finger at first, exploring her, moving in and out finding all the special spots that would provoke the right reactions. I felt like I had entered the most wonderful place on earth, full of unimaginable treasures. I felt so honoured to have been allowed in there, and I was going to make fucking sure she knew that I appreciated it.

"Fuck, Ems, you feel so good inside me," she whispered as I used all my experience to make her feel beautiful. I wanted her to feel beautiful. I wanted her to know just how beautiful I thought she was. I kissed her deeply, and slid a second finger inside her, gently increasing my pace. I just loved the way her body responded to my touch. She was so open to me and I smiled as I heard her really struggling not to cry out and disturb the sleep of our tented neighbours. I knew I could make her scream. Her beautiful blue eyes stared up at me, pleading with me for more. So I gave her more and was rewarded as I watched her drown in pleasure. She raked her nails down my back, which made me thrust into her harder, which made her bite my shoulder which made me push harder again. We kept goading each other until the sex became more and more violent and I was grinding into her as hard as I fucking could. The muscles in my bicep started to burn, but it did nothing to deter me. Naomi was sweating and breathing hard and taking everything I had. She was fucking phenomenal, she pushed me to my limit and then drove me past it.

"I need you," she cried, and I was lost in her now. She was the only thing that mattered. Being inside her was the only thing that mattered. The heat from her cunt around my fingers was the only thing that mattered. We were fucking so hard I think the ground around us must have been shaking, but I loved her and I needed her to know how much. All those months of pent up sexual frustration were released as I drove myself agressively into the most beautiful woman in this or any other universe.

Just before she came, she looked at me like she didn't know what was happening to her. And then she crashed. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. She slammed her arms out to her sides, grasping our unused sleeping bags and twisting them into spaghetti. She called my name repeatedly in between repressing guttural cries. And her body spasmed out of control as she rode repeated waves of pleasure. It seemed to go on forever, but there was no way I was stopping until she couldn't take any more of me. She threw her arms around me with one final gasp, and clung to me for dear life as she slowly attempted to ground herself again. I felt close to tears as I held my gorgeous breathless lover. It felt like coming home. I knew this was where I was meant to be. How fucking stupid we must have been to ever try to deny this. This was the truth. The absolute fucking truth. No wonder Effy was onto us from the start. We must have been fucking blinding her.

"What the fuck was that?" said Naomi when she was finally able to speak. I just looked back at her. I didn't really understand the question. She reached up and gently touched my face.

"No-one's ever made me feel like that before," she explained.

"Me neither," I replied.

She looked at me sceptically.

"But you've been with loads of girls."

"Not like this," I assured her. "Not like this."

I brought my lips to hers and we exchanged another lover's kiss like we had back at the pub, this time with the added memory of what we had just given each other. I suddenly knew that my life was going to be different from this moment on, and it was Naomi that was going to make the difference. I felt her hands wandering towards my bum, and she grinned as her fingers squeezed my cheeks.

"Damn, you've got the finest ass," she said laciviously.

I could tell where this was headed....

And so it continued for most of the night. The Small Canvas Shag Palace resonating to the vibrations of the most spectacular sex I've ever had. I lost count of the number of times we made each other come as I had my hands and tongue over and inside every bit of her. We just couldn't stop touching each other, even long past the point of exhaustion. After every orgasm there would be a brief moment when it seemed as if we could finally drift off into sleep. Until one or the other of us would let our hands start wandering again, or our gentle post coital kisses would turn into something far more dangerous, and the fire would flare up once more. It seemed the only way we could be stopped was if we managed to fuck ourselves to death. But still, one more shag wouldn't kill us, would it?


	19. 19 Breakfast of Champions

**A/N Thank you wonderful readers for all the mega reviews and accusations of causing global warming. I did mean to post it with a warning not to read it at work/school/in front of your Mum, but I forgot. I told you I was trouble, eh? Well the weather has been pissing awful in Toulouse which is good for you as it makes me want to stay in my truck and write and has brought you this brand new update. It pretty much has to be dedicated to LuvActually for the awesomeness that was Coin Laundry and the greatness that is to come with her own work.**

**I don't own Skins, but I love making stuff up with their characters**

**Warning : do not read at work/school/in front of you mother.......unless you're feeling naughty.**

**Hypes x**

19. Breakfast of Champions

Naomi

When I woke up we were already making love. I don't how that quite happened, but I could feel Emily slowly falling into consciousness, even though her fingers were already playing lightly over my clit. And I was no better, the first thing I saw when my eyes fully opened was my right hand on her left breast from the exquisite viewpoint I got because my face was glued to her other one. Again. Come to think of it, I don't actually remember going to sleep, my head is just filled with Emily, Emily and more Emily and the pictures of our bodies intertwining and interlocking over and over again. Was it possible that when our brains finally couldn't fight the fatigue any more, our bodies just carried on fucking in our sleep? Emily's deep dark brown eyes were fully open now, and in them I saw the same wicked glint I'd seen a dozen times last night. Last night. God, I've never known a night like that. I think I'm going to have to redefine the words sex and pleasure, cause if what happened last night was what they truly mean, then fuck knows what I've been doing the rest of my life. I don't usually behave like that. Sex has never really been that important to me. It's a necessary release, and when it's over you go to sleep so you can get on with the rest of your life the next day. But Emily Fitch was never going to let me get away with that. One thing I learned about her last night is that she's fucking insatiable. But I was just as bad. Jesus, she turned me into an animal. I just couldn't get enough of her. How many times did we fuck each other last night? And now I wake up with my face and hands all over her tits.

Emily rolled me over onto my back and let the full weight of her body cover me with it's warmth. Fuck, it felt so delicious to be underneath her again. She pushed the hair out of my face and kissed me deeply. Oh God, it was one of _those_ kisses. There's another word I'm going to have to redefine. Love. All my life I've been a cynical bastard. I watched my Mum getting fucked over by men and I swore it was never going to happen to me. It's why I've always kept them at a distance. Even the few times I've slept with girls I made sure I kept it light. I told myself I was never going to let my relationships define me. I told anyone who would listen that romantic love was an artificial construct, designed shore up the economic and political institution of marriage. If you had told me you believed in The One, I would have scoffed my superior scoff and dismissed you for your foolishness. My friendship with Cook was the deepest love I'd known. But then I met Emily. And suddenly I understood all the stories and the songs and the poetry. I fell in love with her. I couldn't help myself. Inside that sweet (and I can now add _perfectly_ proportioned) frame, there lurks a woman of incredible raw power. My tiny Amazon, my bad little angel. I have never loved anyone the way I love her, and ever since she kissed me last night, the only thing I wanted in all the world is for her to love me back.

God she made me feel loved last night. Every fuck was a love song, a sonnet, a declaration of devotion. She made do things I didn't know I was capable of. She did things to me I didn't know were possible. She made me feel so much I think the world is a different place today. But even in the throes of that incredible passion, when she was deep inside me and I swear I could feel wave upon wave of her love actually physically entering me with every thrust, there was still a tiny moment of the fear. What if this isn't real? What if I wake up in the morning to a face full of disappointment, or an uncomfortable silence? The awkward moment when you suddenly have to salvage what you can from your train wreck of a friendship and career. But Emily hadn't even given me a moment to get scared. She had rolled me onto my back and kissed me with such powerful, blinding emotion I could do nothing but give myself to her again. I responded to that kiss with more passion of my own, and was rewarded by her groan of pleasure into my mouth, and her hand creeping back between my thighs. I was safe, she wasn't going to run away. She was going to take me and make me come again into the heat of her love.

That's when I realised that something wasn't quite right.

"Ems," I said breathlessly as she covered my neck with kisses.

"Yeah, " she muttered in between starting tiny fires on my skin.

"I'm wet," I informed her.

"Mmmm, I know," she murmured. "I can feel you."

She did this trick of hers where she flicks all the fingers of one hand across my clit in quick succession. It feels fucking sensational, and for a moment I forgot all about the cause of my distress as my body involuntarily begged her for more.

"I love it when you're wet," she said. Her unbelievably sexy voice was even more husky than usual, driving me to distraction.

"No, Hun, I'm like really wet. It feels like I'm lying in a puddle or something"

Emily peered over my shoulder to the large puddle of water that seemed to have found it's way into our tent, soaking half our bedding.

"Shit," she said. "When did that happen?"

"I don't know."

"Oh well," she shrugged.

Emily's solution to the problem was merely to roll us both over to the far side of the tent until she was back on top of me, and to carry on where she left off. Like I said, insatiable.

"I'm hungry," she whispered in my ear.

Or not. Shit, we hadn't eaten since the pub last night. I know she loves her food, and with the energy we'd expended, she must be ravenous.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked her. "We've got some bread and jam, or some Weetabix."

Emily just laughed at my eager concern for her welfare.

"I want to eat the breakfast of champions," she declared.

"What's that?" I asked, confused, desperately wanting to do everything I could to make her happy."

"Pussy," she winked at me, before sliding her way down my body. Ok, so now there was a puddle on this side of the tent, but it hadn't come from the rain. Just as she pushed my legs apart, spreading my folds to allow her access to my clit, I was hit with a series of flashbacks from last night. Sweet freaking Jesus....she has a pierced tongue!

"Oh fuck," I cried out in anticipation of that sweet combination of flesh and metal working it's magic again, but the sensation didn't come. I looked down to see Emily smirking at me, resting her head on my thigh.

"You want a piece of this?" she smouldered, flashing her tongue at me to reveal the silver ball of her barbell.

"I thought you were fucking hungry," I gasped, attempting coolness, when really I was desperate. I was never going to beat Emily at this game. I needed her touch so badly. Luckily, she decided to have mercy on me.

"I'm ravenous," she purred, plunging her head between my open legs and tasting my blood swollen clitoris. My body shook violently as her skilful tongue made the whole world beautiful. Fuck this girl knew what she was doing. She should give lessons. No wonder all the straight girls love her. I was beginning to think that every one of Katie's stories was true. Once you've tasted Emily Fitch there's no going back. As her tongue played its sensual rhythm against me, I flashed back to going down on her last night. The sweet sweet taste of her, and her barely repressed screams of pleasure as I made her come. The vision made me jerk my hips up hard against her face.

"Oh God, Naoms," she groaned into my wetness. I was little moments like these that made this all the sweeter. Knowing that I could make her lose it just as much as she could do it to me. Knowing that I could make the mighty sex goddess Emily Fitch crumble with desire. She recovered and started flicking her tongue rapidly from side to side, alternating this with long broad strokes that made sure she took full advantage of her metalwork to make me squirm. My triumph had been brief, before I became her slave once more. She could fuck me, she could lick me, she could whip me, beat me and call me Brenda, and I would take everything she had to give and more, because I needed her to show me love. I could feel the surge of orgasm was coming, and I spread my legs as wide as I could to increase the sensation, and show Emily how much I needed her. That was something else I learned last night. The more I threw myself into the fire, the more I let my guard down, the greater the reward. The more vulnerable I made myself to Emily, the more she responded, and I just loved the way she responded. She wrapped her arm around one of my legs and pushed down hard on the other one, spreading me wider and trapping me under her will as she lashed me even harder with her tongue, sending whole new electric shocks of pleasure through my body.

"What the fuck.....what the fuck, Ems?" I managed to splutter out between great gasping breaths, as I could feel myself teetering on the brink of another momentous sexual explosion.

"I fucking love making you come," she whispered into me, before launching a final hard-paced assault on my clit.

"I want you so much," I hissed, my hands in her hair, pushing her even harder against me. That drove her completely insane. She devoured me, and fucking threw me over the edge into orgasm. The rest of the world disappeared. There was only me and my lover, and the fucking supernova between my legs. Time and space became a nonsense, I was flying through the fucking stars. No wonder the French call it La Petit Mort, the little death. I felt like I'd died from an overdose of pleasure, and could only be returned to the mortal realm by Emily's hot mouth, still covered in the taste of my own juice, giving me the world's filthiest kiss of life. I lay there helpless, spasming with aftershocks, occasionally managing to focus my eyes for long enough to see her smiling down at me.

"I can't move," I slurred lazily up at her.

"Well that's not looking very promising for the show," she giggled.

"Oh God, we have a show," I said, suddenly remembering why we were here. Just at that moment my travel alarm clock went off. "Shit, I suppose we better get up,"

Emily rummaged round in the chaos we'd created in the tent until she found the clock. She threw it into the puddle.

"Not so fast, Ms Campbell," she said. "Somebody in here needs to get fucked."

Suddenly my formerly paralysed body sprang back to life with a vengeance. With an invitation like that, how could I refuse?

When we finally made it out of the tent it was a beautiful sunny day, but the air was alive with the sounds of cursing and grumbling. It would seem that the weather had wreaked it's mighty vengeance on the whole of the camping party last night, and people were cursing as they tried to wring out their sodden clothes and bedding. All around us was a sea of anger and despair, but I was a fucking ray of sunshine. It was first thing in the morning, and I was actually fucking cheerful. I was singing as I laid out our sleeping bags and some of our clothes to dry on the drystone wall of the field. I was even sorting out Emily's knickers for her and I've never done that for anyone. She does have lovely knickers though.

"You seem uncharacteristically happy, Naomi," JJ's voice interrupted my little lingerie sidetrack. "Especially considering the time of day. Didn't you girls get wet last night?"

There was a sudden burn between my legs, and I staggered forward and had to steady myself against the wall.

"Yeah we did, actually," said Emily, stepping in to save my dignity. "But there's nothing we can do about, so why be grumpy?"

"I suppose you're right," replied JJ. "Negative emotions can do nothing to change the course of history."

"That storm was fucking crazy though, wasn't it?" said Freddie.

I looked at him blankly. There was a storm? When did that happen?

"Didn't you hear it, man?" he said. "It woke both of us up."

I looked across at Emily who looked just as confused as I was.

"Must have slept through it," I shrugged.

Either that or I was in the deepest ever sex coma the world has known. Or maybe Emily really had transported me into a completely different world.

I spent the rest of the day in a daze, trying to process what was going on. We all went off to the showground and from that moment on, I didn't have much of a chance to be alone with her. To be honest I was quite glad about that. I wasn't sure I could quite cope with her without losing control, and I wasn't ready for that. I felt sure the repercussions of what had just happened between us were going to be enormous, and I didn't want anyone else making judgements on us before I knew what it meant myself. I was scared, and usually when I was scared I ran, or I pushed the other person away from me. But this was Emily. She wasn't just a sexual partner, she had seeped into every part of my life. Pushing her away would be like switching off my own life support machine, and that made the whole thing even scarier. Sometimes I wonder if we do these dangerous things in the air just to prove to ourselves that we're not scared, even though we know that we're the biggest cowards in the world, running away from normal life, from commitment, from ever having to grow up at all. I watched Emily on her silks and I wanted to cry at how beautiful she was. I looked round at the adoring faces of the crowd around me, at how they were amazed and delighted by her. Watching the starstruck lust on their faces, and wondering if my own looked just as spellbound. That's your lover, I told my disbelieving self. You could have it all, if you have the guts to grab it.

Just before our doubles routine, she pulled me behind the oversized vegetables marquee.

"Kiss me," she said huskily.

"I can't," I confessed. "I wouldn't be able to stop."

That seemed to please her more than an actual kiss. She smiled, and took my hand, and brought it gently to her lips.

"It's OK," she assured me. "We're going where nobody else can touch us. I'll see you up there."

I followed her up the rope that afternoon knowing that even if it had been leading to the fires of hell I would still have followed her up there willingly, but today it lead to something far more beautiful. Our place. We had played with a dozen emotions up there. We had done sex, blood aggression and violence. We had teased each other, and tortured each other, and pushed each other further towards the inevitable truth. But today there was nothing but love. It felt like we were shining. Each touch more delicate and tender than it had been before. Each new point of contact warmed me from within. I was smiling like an idiot, and so was she. Every time I held her I felt honoured to be the one allowed to keep her safe. I was fighting the laws of physics for this woman. I was defying the will of the earth's gravitational pull for this woman. I was resisting the curvature of space for this woman. If I could do that, surely I could fight my own pathetic fears for this woman. She deserved a warrior, a worthy opponent. Could I be the one? Could I find the strength and the spirit to be that person? I curled up to the bar and wrapped my arms around her calves. I squeezed her legs to let her know I was ready and she let go of the ropes, arching backwards to take the pair of us backwards into a massive 270 degree swing. As the crowd gasped, I knew that Emily had faith in me. And if she had faith in me who knows what I was capable of?

When I came down from my hoop, our final act of the day, Emily was nowhere to be found. I felt an irrational sense of rising panic, similar to the time I missed her in the cottage in Scotland. Except this time I didn't have the excuse of being concussed. What if she had freaked out and run? What if she doesn't want me any more? Despite the fact that I had absloutley no evidence to base this theory on, the mere thought of it terrified me far more than my fear of intimacy. Fuck, what I mess I was. I had to find her. I had to see her just to reassure myself she wasn't giving up on me. I saw Freddie chatting to a pretty girl acrobat, and accosted him.

"Where's Emily?" I said a little too urgently. "Have you seen her?"

"Chill, Naomi," said Freds. "She's in with the vegetable guys."

I raced into the marquee and was stopped in my tracks. A mate of Uncle Charlie's called Dennis had roped her into announcing the winners of the vegetable competition. She was up on a makeshift stage at the end of the marquee, with dozens of retired gardeners gazing lovingly up at her. She was charming every one of them, drawing out the excitement of the announcements, and kissing the winners on the cheek as she handed them their rosettes. She looked so sweet and so charming, I just had to laugh. If those old guys knew even half the things I knew about Emily Fitch, we would have had to call a fleet of ambulances to deal with the coronaries. When the prize giving was over she caught my eye, and came to find me.

"There are some seriously large vegetables in this tent," she said, her eyes suggesting some unorthodox uses for some of them. She left me with a bright red blush exploding up my cheeks. Holy shit, my girlfriend is the filthiest woman alive.

I had done it again. I had mentally referred to her as my girlfriend even though no such thing had been agreed upon. Ok, so I had slightly more grounds to base it on this time, and yes we'd had more sex in the one night we'd been together than a lot of couples have in weeks. But still, I was jumping the gun. There were other parties involved. I knew I'd never be able to go back to Justin after this, but I was still way too scared to ask Emily what was going on with her and Shayna. This whole thing still had the potential to blow up in my face. We really needed to talk, but neither of us seemed to be showing any inclination to do so. We went to a pub in Charlie's local village that night so he didn't have to drive and could get drunk with us. Emily was pulling her usual trick of charming the arse off everyone in sight. I spotted a couple of the guys and one of the girls all vying to get closer to her, and when she disappeared for ages my stupid, stupid brain kept imagining the worst. For the second time today I found myself desperately hunting for her as my heart smacked mercilessly against my chest. I finally found her out in the car park, leaning against the back wall of the pub, around the corner from the smokers' shelter. Mercifully, she was alone.

"What are you doing out here," I asked her, trying not to sound like a jealous twat. The last thing I wanted to do was pull a Shayna on her. She let out a long breath before answering.

"Attempting to cope," she said finally.

"With what?"

"With you," she admitted. "With the way I feel about you."

That was it. No more restraint. I crushed her back against the wall and kissed her desperately.

"I can't stand it, I can't..." I said before kissing her over and over to show her how much I cared. The crash barriers had failed and I was all over her again.

"It's OK," she said when she could between my fervent attentions. "It's OK."

She pulled me into a Fitch hug and I squeezed myself impossibly close to her as I too attempted to cope, but the proximity of her far too beautiful body was more than I could handle.

"I need to be inside you," I told her, trying to stop myself from putting my hand straight up her dress. "I need it."

Emily's hips performed the international gesture for 'can you just fuck me right now please', but she started laughing as well. I pulled back, confused at the mixed messages she was sending. Her eyes were full of temptation.

"Look over there," she said.

I turned to see a home made childrens adventure playground on the other side of the car park, but it was late and there were no children around. Then I spotted what Emily was getting at. There was a treehouse with a little rope ladder running up to it.

"Are you serious?" I asked her.

"Naoms, I need it just as much as you do," she said.

I took her hard and fast in the treehouse, putting my hand up her dress and tearing her knickers away from her body. But I watched her through every second of it. I watched her beautiful face as she gasped and said my name. I watched as her nails dug into my arm. I watched the rise and fall of her cleavage as she thrust eagerly against my hand. I watched her start to sweat. I watched her eyes lose focus and her head start to thrash from side to side. I watched her mouth hang open with pleasure and I kept my eyes open as I kissed her, thrusting my tongue deep into that inviting mouth. I watched her eyes grow wide as she looked up at me longingly when I pinned her hands above her head as I fucked her. I watched her want me. I watched her need it just as much as I did. And I watched her come. It was violent, and her spasms were throwing both of us into the air, but I stayed with her, giving her everything she needed, until I watched her come down. She stared up at me and her eyes were filled with something I'd never seen before in any of my lovers. Pure wonder, like she couldn't actually believe the way I'd made her feel. Suddenly I wasn't scared any more. Suddenly I knew I wanted to see that look for the rest of my life.

**Hope you enjoyed that. For those of you not from the UK traditional fetes and fairs over here often have competitions for the best homemade cakes and jams, and for who can grow the largest vegetable and such. I have performed at quite a few places like this and I love them, even though I find them quite hilarious. They take it all very seriously, but it's charming as well, especially when it's next to a bunch of lesbian punks doing a trapeze act, just another little part of crazy England. See you soon.**


	20. 20 Wordless

**A/N Sorry it's been a while, but I've been having (heaven forbid) a social life. Anyway I figured you all might need a breather after the last two. To the people who keep asking if I'm French, I'm not. I'm English, working for a Welsh circus in France. Next stop back to the UK. And dear cardioklepto in answer to your question - no it's not! I should be so lucky ;-)**

**Read and enjoy, the next one should be coming a little sooner**

**I don't own skins, but I love what it does to me..**

**Hypes xx**

20. Wordless

Emily

I woke up with the sun beating down upon the Small Canvas Shag Palace. It was already baking hot but I was naked. Naomi was curled around my back spooning me. I experienced a feeling of unrestrained joy as I realised once again that this wasn't all a dream, that the past two nights had actually happened for real. The flashbacks started hitting me in waves. We'd been shagging all night again. When I'm with Naomi there just doesn't seem to be an off button. I've always had what you might call a healthy appetite, but this is ridiculous. The more I have her, the more I want her, and the more I want her the more she wants me back. Each one of us feeds off the other one's desire until we find ourselves locked in a self-replicating feedback loop, and spiralling out of control. So it was actually quite nice just to wake up wrapped in her embrace. I felt warm, and safe and loved and was revelling in it until I realised that her hand was clamped firmly round my tit. I looked down and laughed to myself. That girl has a serious breast obsession, I don't know how she ever managed to convince herself she was straight.

She stirred as she felt me moving, and I started to roll myself over to face her. I wanted to see her eyes when she woke up. I wanted to know what her reaction would be to waking up with me again after another night of passion. I wanted to see if the massive whirl of emotion I was feeling was replicated anywhere in that deep well of expressive blue beauty. But she slid herself on top of me before she was even properly awake, and my lust just rained on down to consume me. I was helpless in the face of her. I was her willing sinner, her unrepentant slave. I was more than happy to abandon myself to the physical one more time, and started to move suggestively underneath her. But then she finally opened her eyes, and she took my breath away. She was looking at me as if I was the centre of her whole world. I could sense a force, an essence reaching down from her and filling my heart. I was hypnotised. I believed in magic, I believed in fairies, I believed that small blue animated birds were about to descend and sing a jaunty little tune to our love as they fluttered round our naked sexed up bodies. She started stroking my face, and I thought I was going to disintegrate into mushed up soppy love goo at every touch. She just kept staring down at me as she played with my face and hair. I knew what I had hoped to see in her eyes this morning, but this was so much more. This was absolute trust. All the emotions from our trapeze had been transferred into our bed. We were going to have to live with this. There was no escape.

"Emily," she said, and I knew it was just because she loved saying my name.

I closed my eyes for the kiss that I knew was coming, and when her lips brushed softly against mine, my entire body was flooded with the most intense passion. Not just sexual desire, but the surge of something so deep and powerful it could only be pure love. My heart hammered so hard I thought it was going to crack my ribs and beat its way right out of my chest. I was scared, I was actually fucking scared. I had spent so long wishing and waiting for this woman to love me, and now that it finally seemed that she did, it was terrifying. Effy's words suddenly shot back through my brain, just as they always did when I needed them. Be brave, Emily. If you can see this through the rewards could be unimaginable.

I pulled her into another deep soft kiss to let her know she was invited, to let her know that this was what I wanted and needed. To let her know that it was safe to love me, and that I wouldn't let her down. She made love to me so slowly. Kissing and exploring every part of me, each touch a little journey of discovery, giving her intimate knowledge she would store up and use again later. She played with the veins on the back of my hands. She found and kissed the sensitive spots of my knees. She ran her fingers down the tendons on my wrists. She whispered my name as she kissed between my shoulder blades. She drew five fingers down my back. She drew circles with her tongue over the curve of my ass. She kissed my eyelids. She brushed her cheek against the side of my breast. She took my fingers into her mouth and nibbled and sucked on them gently. I was soaking wet and tingling within the first minute, but I didn't want her to rush. I wanted to feel everything she was doing in all it's exquisiteness. I wanted to memorise the picture she was painting on my skin. I was her canvas, and she was making art. She gasped as she finally entered me, feeling how wet I was for her, and I got another look from those eloquent steel blue eyes that told me everything was just as intense for her.

Still she didn't rush, but it was fucking amazing. I had no idea that movement so subtle could be capable of causing me so much pleasure, but her careful exploration of my vagina was bringing me places I'd never been before. Our eyes locked and I looked up at her in disbelief at the sensations she was giving me, my ragged breathing telling her everything she needed to know about the way she was making me feel. She was watching me again, watching every little movement in my body and my eyes. She was reading me, learning me. She was the most incredible lover. Slow or fast, hard of soft, frantic or subtle, it was all for me. She always made it all about me. She gave herself unselfishly to give me what I needed. Her love was pure and it was beautiful, and it was fucking addictive. She only changed the rhythm of her motion oh so slightly, but I could feel my body amping itself up for orgasm, the wait only making the sensations more powerful. I didn't fall over the edge so much as slid over it. I was gliding, gliding on high thermals of unadulterated full on bliss. Even as I came she made it last. This time she closed her eyes, drawing out the pleasure by touch alone, guided by my moans and breaths of unrestrained ecstasy.

"Naoms, I can't...I just....I uh..." I stuttered as I floated back down to earth. I wanted to tell her everything, but I could barely form any words.

"Sssh, it's OK," she said, stroking my face exactly as she had done at the beginning, bringing me back full circle. "You don't have to say anything. I know. I was there with you."

"I know," I said reaching up to pull her into one of our special kisses, before collapsing back down onto the sleeping bags. I wanted to repay her straight away, but I was too blissed out to move. Naomi rolled me onto my side and then lay down behind me, wrapping her arm around me and returning us to the position we had woken up in. Oh my God, that was too fucking perfect, that she would think of that nearly made me cry. How the fuck did she get this wonderful? I relaxed into her embrace and felt my eyelids getting heavy again. I wanted nothing more than to sink blissfully back into a dreamy sleep, held and protected by my blonde goddess, but an unexpected male voice penetrated the skin of our love bubble.

"Wake up lady sleepyheads," said JJ. "It's 10.47am. We need to leave for the showground at 11, leaving you a mere 13 minutes to prepare yourselves for the journey, which is considerably less than the average time needed for such an endeavour."

Oh shit. Real world. Bummer.

Once again we refrained from revealing ourselves to the world. How could we even begin to explain this when we were so far from understanding it ourselves. Back at the showground we found ourselves surrounded by people making demands on our attention. A couple of the performing crew seemed to have taken quite a shine to me, including the rather attractive girl acrobat that Freddie kept trying to chat up, but all I could think about was Naomi. All I could picture was the unearthly azure light that shone from her eyes and bore right into my soul as she was moving inside of me. Which proved to be a bit of a disadvantage when a woman from the Women's Institute was trying to sell me a slice of Dundee cake. All my new friends from the day before were dying to chat to me about their gardens, and were it not for the excess baggage restrictions on the flight I could have taken home twice my weight in free vegetables. I looked down from my silks at all the happy faces of my audience, but I wanted to see just one. Finally I found her lurking at the edge of the crowd. Naomi was an excellent lurker. You often found her watching from the sidelines of things, her hyper intelligent brain assessing and analysing everything around her. She was always so careful, keeping herself detached and intellectual about everything apart from her performance. I wondered what the hell I had done to make her fling herself with such abandon into our love affair. Even now she looked so different form the rest of the crowd, standing so straight and strong she was mesemerising. She didn't clap my tricks, she didn't need to. The look on her face was enough to tell me she was so fucking proud of me. I had to look away. She made my knees go weak, and I needed them to stop me plummeting to the ground.

By the time we'd finished our doubles, I couldn't stand it any more. I'd been in the same field as her all morning, but I missed her like crazy. My body was aching to be alone with her. Not to fuck her, but just to be _with_ her, to feel that intensity of connection without any interruption. I managed to sneak us away to a little tea room in the next village for lunch, but when the food came I barely acknowledged it and just kept staring and staring into the beautiful face of my lover.

"Ems, are you going to eat that?" she asked me after an eternity of just staring back at me.

I looked down at the cheese on toast growing cold on the table in front of me, but I couldn't seem to do anything about it.

"You should eat something, Hun," she said gently. "You've hardly eaten a thing since yesterday."

She was right, I _should_ eat something, but with my stomach doing somersaults every time I looked at her, I couldn't seem to make it happen. Bloody Hell, Naomi, you've put me off my food. This has to be love.

"I haven't exactly seen you eat that much either," I said, trying to defend my position.

"Yeah, but I'm still smoking fags and drinking coffee," she smiled. "That's what I run on half the time."

She reached out and held my hand across the table, and I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply at her touch. I was in deep deep trouble. This love was a force I couldn't contain, and it was threatening to overwhelm me. And from the look in Naomi's eyes, I knew she was feeling the same. I knew we should talk, try to work out how the hell we were going to cope with what was happening to us. How the hell we were going to make this work back in the real world, cause one thing was certain right now. This wasn't going to end anytime soon. But how could we talk about something we had no experience of? Something so strange and new and terrifying, that had managed to possess us despite our best intentions, and now threatened to rule our world completely.

"Naomi," I whispered her name with a pleading look in my eye.

"I know," she said, shaking her head and we left it at that. This island was our bubble. It was protecting us whilst we took the time to adjust, and maybe that was for the best. This storm would have to die down sooner or later, before we both died of starvation and exhaustion, and then perhaps we could find out what it meant.

That night the whole gang of us decided to have a party on the beach. You know the stuff, campfires and beers, and guitars and frisbee and a little bit of smuggled spliff. Stupid games and stupid songs, and telling stories of our lives. It was fucking lovely, the last blast in the bubble before we had to catch our flight back to the mainland tomorrow. I relaxed into the easy going company, and got a little tipsy, throwing sneaky little glances at my lover whenever I got the chance. I wanted to touch her so much, just to snuggle up next to her and stare into the flames, but the mantra kept popping back into my brain. Naomi doesn't do PDAs. She doesn't define herself by her relationships, she is not going to want me following her round like a lovesick puppy, demanding that she show the world she's mine, like Shayna always did with me. God, what if this is what she was like all the time? Cool on the outside, but raging flame on the inside. What if this was what she was like with Justin, and this was the part that I never got to see? Oh God no, that would be too terrible. It couldn't be true. I had to mean something more to her than that. The force began to build, threatening to explode it's way out of me, so I took myself away from the campfire and walked on down to the water's edge, hoping that the soft sounds of it's perpetual comings and goings would soothe the fever in my heart.

It was a beautiful cloudless night and the moon was nearly full, illuminating my way as I made my way along the beach until I reached the rocks at the edge of the cove. I sat down on a particularly comfortable one and gazed up at the stars. There was no light pollution here, and the sky was a glittering diamond packed tiara of lovliness twinkling down at me. I thought of the last time I had watched the stars, drinking rum on a beanbag with Naomi, and suddenly all my sense memories were invaded by her once more. The sound of her voice, the smell of her skin, the taste of her sweat, the vision of her face lit up in ecstasy, and the breathless chaos that was her touch. That beautiful touch that had become as necessary to me as breathing. That touch that had become my only source of sustenance. The touch that was keeping me alive. God, I needed her, I needed her right now. I jumped like a frightened rodent when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Fuck, had she followed me? Oh please let her have followed me, let her be here to kiss me and bring me back to life.

But it was only Victoria the acrobat, and she had definitley followed me. Her eyes told me exactly what she wanted. She was beautiful, all pink hair and bubbly smile and perfectly defined muscles, but she wasn't Naomi. She wasn't the only girl who could save my life or completely destroy it.

"Hey Emily," she said, invitingly. "What ya up to?"

Attemping to cope, Victoria, I thought. Attempting to cope, but fucking failing.

"Just chillin," I lied. I was probably the least chilled person on the island.

"Fancy some company," she offered, clearly flirting.

"To be honest, not really," I shrugged, watching the disappointment flash across her face. "I'm sorry. You seem really lovely, but I have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, and she's a bit of a hard nut by all accounts, so you might want to steer clear," another voice cut into the night. Naomi, she had followed me after all.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't realise," said Victoria, raising her hands and backing away.

I was so delighted to see Naomi, it took me a moment to fully grasp the situation. Shit, Victoria had clearly thought that I meant Naomi, but Naomi had assumed that I meant Shayna. God, no. She couldn't assume I still had feelings for Shay after everything that had happened between us. A massive panic attack took hold of me, accelerating my heartrate and constricting my lungs. I had tell her the truth.

"NO, fuck Naoms, no. Shit. Fuck. No. She's gone, baby," I babbled in alarm.

"But she was after you, right?" said Naomi her voice tinged with a barely disguised jealousy.

Oh fuck, now she thought I meant Victoria. Jesus, what a mess, come on Emily, you need to form a coherent sentence, you need to tell her she's your only one.

"I'm not interested in her," I said rising up from my rock and taking Naomi's hands. "But I meant Shayna. Shayna's gone."

"What?"

"I finished with her."

"When?"

"Just after Glasto."

Why didn't you tell me, Hun?"

"You were all unconscious and shit, and then I guess I just forgot. Please forgive me."

Naomi eyed me up and down, seemingly deep in thought, before the merest hint of a smile began to play across her lips.

"So this girlfriend you were talking about...?" she said.

"Oh fuck," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Now I'd just told some random girl that Naoms was my girlfriend, and Naomi knew it. Could I make any bigger a fool of myself tonight? I watched her in terror, trying to suss out what her reaction would be.

One of the most glorious things about Naomi's face is how expressive it is. It's one of the things that makes her such a powerful performer, and it's definitely one of the things that made me fall in love with her. As I watched that incredible face slowly transform itself from a look of mild amusment to one of pure and unadulterated joy, it was like watching a beautiful sunrise after a month of rain. I bathed in its magnificent light and felt renewed.

"So you want to be my girlfriend?" she asked me.

"If you want me," I offered, my voice sounding small and terrified.

"How could you even fucking ask me that, Ems?" she said, pulling me into her arms. "You're the only thing I want in the whole fucking world."


	21. 21 Flawless

**A/N Well it's been a long and tiring week at the circus, and there was a brief moment of crisis when I thought the HyperFitched laptop had finally breathed it's last, but I coaxed it back to life and here is the next update. There is a dark stain creeping across the top of my battered screen, so your good wishes are needed to keep it alive for another couple of weeks, after which we get back to the UK and I can buy another one. This one goes out to the wonderful NiceoneBlondie, who gave me the perfect phrase for recent events in this story, and if you're not already reading INK, then get the hell over there for a fabulous story. Cheers mate.**

21. Flawless.

Naomi

I looked at myself in the mirror. God, I looked fucking awful. My skin was pale and dull and I had dark rings under my eyes, but I guess that's what happens when you don't eat or sleep for days. I don't know how she could possibly fancy me looking like this, but every day she wakes up and looks at me like I'm the most beautiful girl in the world. I splashed cold water on my face to try to wake myself up. I studied my reflection, trying to find out what it is that she sees in me. We are so conditioned to think badly of ourselves, it is only if we allow ourselves to see through our lover's eyes and have the courage to believe it, that we can see how truly wonderful we are. She thinks I'm the most beautiful girl in the world, who cares if I look like shit? A stupid delirious grin spread across my face, and I left the toilet to go and find her. She was sitting in the airport bar drinking coffee. She doesn't normally drink much coffee, but I guess she too is trying to stay awake. Of course to my lovers' eyes she still managed to look amazing, and her smile when she looked up at me was enough to make me catch my breath and have to sit down as soon as possible. The boys were off playing some stupid arcade game, leaving me to indulge in the far more amusing pastime of just looking at my girlfriend's wonderful face. Yeah, I can say it now for real. Emily's my girlfriend. Emily Fitch is my girlfriend. She loves me and she wants to fuck my bloody brains out.

I think I've had more sex with Emily in these past three days that I've had with Justin in the whole six months I've known him. I have been beaten and battered and thrown around in the sex tornado that is Emily Fitch. I've been swept off my feet by her unstoppable force. I've been spun around in a delirious ecstasy. I keep expecting to be spat out the other side and be left to my fate, but it just isn't happening. I can't stop touching her, I can't stop wanting her. I want her now, sat opposite her in an airport bar full of holidaymakers. I'm almost shaking with an equal dose of exhaustion and desire, but all I can think about is how soon I can get to touch her again, how long till I can feel myself surrounded by her sweet warmth, and feel her hot breath on my neck as I pleasure her.

"Whatcha thinking about?" she asked me.

I must have given myself away, because she was smirking at me. It's a fair cop, guv.

"Same thing you're thinking about probably," I say, attempting to turn the tables on her.

"I was thinking about how good it feels when you fuck me," she said, smiling at me cheekily. I love the way she's not at all shy about sex. I love the way she's so fucking proud of who she is, and she's not prepared to take any shit from anyone about it. My Emily's a fighter, and it's a fucking turn on. She makes me feel bold and adventurous. It was because of her that last night sex on the beach became more than just the name of a fucking cocktail.

"It's a shame it's such a short flight," I said.

"Oh yeah?" she said, cocking one eyebrow at me. Damn she was cool. I leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Otherwise I might be tempted to make you a member of the mile high club."

This was me trying to appear as filthy and exciting as my lover.

"Ah," said Emily, looking guilty. "I've kind of already joined."

"What?" I blurted. So much for my attempts at sexual sophistication. Emily shrugged apologetically.

"You've had sex on a plane?"

"Yeah..."

"I bet you've had sex on the beach before now as well, haven't you?"

"Well, I had this one girlfriend," she said. "And just for a laugh we decided we'd do all the things that are the names of cocktails. You know, Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall and all that."

I suddenly felt massively intimidated by her experience. How was I going to keep her interested? What if I wasn't enough for her?

"Is there anything you haven't done?" I let slip before I could control myself.

Emily looked at her hands, catching my discomfort.

"Yeah loads," she said cagily. "I'm not that much of a freak."

"Well, I know you've had bondage sex."

How could I ever forget. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed.

"Well yeah..." she admitted.

The thought of it made me not care how much of a freak she was. Fuck it. The dirtier the better, just as long as I was the one she wanted to be dirty with.

"What about food sex?" I teased her.

She looked at me as if that one was way too obvious to dignify with an answer.

"Roleplay?"

"Yep."

"Threesome?"

"Uh huh."

I was racking my straight-laced brain, to come up with more alternatives to test her with, when something flashed into my brain.

"Aha!" I exclaimed. "I've got one. Sex with a man."

"Well, there was this one time in Thailand..."

"No," I stopped her there. I didn't actually want to think about it.

"What can I say?" she shrugged. "I'm all about experiments, me."

Oh God, I'm bloody doomed. How will I ever satisfy her? How will I ever keep up with her? She must have sensed my discomfort, casue she leaned across the table and pulled me into a full on passionate kiss. For the first time in my life, I didn't care that someone was snogging my face off in public.

"Naoms darling," she said, cupping my face in both her hands. "None of that stuff matters. _This_ is what matters. _This_ is the thing I've never done before."

"Yeah but what is this?" I asked her honestly, I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into either.

"I've never been so in love with someone I can barely function," said Emily. "No-one has ever made me feel like this before, and to be honest it scares me shitless. But I know I've never wanted anything more in my whole life, so I'm gonna be brave. I'm gonna walk right up the the cliff and jump right off the edge. I know you'll be there to catch me, because you're always there to catch me. It's what you do, and I love you for it."

I walked around the table and reached for her hands. I pulled her up to meet me. I took her into my arms and I kissed her with all the passion I could muster. Yes me, Naomi Campbell, Bristol's finest fucking ice queen in a raw and carefree public display of affection. It wasn't a possessive kiss. It was nothing to do with showing the world that she was mine. It was to show _her_ that I didn't give a fuck what the rest of the world thought, I would always be there to catch her.

The rest of the journey back to the tent passed in some kind of sleep-deprived loved-up bliss coma. Thank fuck JJ was driving us back from the airport, I think I would have killed us all. We were meeting up at an urban festival in a park in Liverpool, and I was looking forward to getting back to my truck and getting some sleep. My dilemma being, of course, that I didn't want to sleep without Emily, but if Emily was there....well you know the rest. As we drove onto site I looked at my tent with pride, and felt a warm glow. It was going to be good to be back with my family. That was until we all piled out of JJ's and the white van of betrayal smacked me in the face. Justin, shit. Now of all times he chooses to be spontaneous. I glanced across at Emily in a panic, maybe she hadn't noticed. No such luck. She didn't say a word, she didn't have to. Her beautiful dark brown eyes were having a whole conversation with me on their own. It's time to stop fucking about, Campbell, they told me, you know what you have to do. She was right, she had put herself on the line for me, it was time to rise to the challenge.

"I'll find him," I told her. "I'll tell him. I know what colour the future is."

Emily just nodded, she was putting her trust in me again. Fuck, I just had to show her I deserved it. Just at that moment Cook came up and grabbed me into a big bear hug, picking me up and twirling me round.

"Naomikins, ya big ol' fucker," he said warmly. "Missed you like fucking crazy, man."

"What the fuck is Justin doing here?" I asked him as soon as he put me down.

"I invited him to help with tent up," said Cook with obvious hurt in his voice. "What's your fucking problem?"

"Hey Cookie," said Emily, trying to distract him from the tactlessness of my reaction. "Haven't you got a hug for your Emilio?"

Cook willingly threw himself into the arms of my small red headed angel.

"What's up with Blondie?" he asked her. "She's got a right fuckin cob on."

"Just knackered from the journey," she said calmly. "And don't forget, she did get smacked on the head pretty badly not so long ago."

God, she's good. I attempted to imitate her calmness.

"Where's Justin now?" I asked, as casually as I could.

"He's down at Gina's, helping her get ready for the party tonight," said Cook.

Oh seven shades of shit. This is what you've done to me Sex Tornado Fitch. I've forgotten it's my own mother's birthday! Mum was here with Tribal Fountain, and she was throwing a big party for everyone tonight. Of course she was going to invite Justin. As far as she knew he was still my boyfriend. As far as _he_ knew, he was still my boyfriend. Only Ems and I knew the revolution that had occured on the island of love. It was time to come clean, but I couldn't fuck up my Mum's birthday.

"Party at Gina's then," said Emily emotionlessly as Cook had filled her in on the details. "With all the family...sweet. Better go find something to wear."

She turned and headed for her caravan, leaving me in pieces in the middle of the field.

"What am I going to do?" I said to no-one in particular. I'm not used to this kind of shit. I don't do drama.

"Trust her," a voice came from behind me.

"Effy," I said, spinning round and pratically falling into her arms. I was so tired, I was on the point of collapse.

"Don't worry," said Effy. "Everything's going to be ok."

From anyone else that would just be a platitude. From Effy you could pretty much put money on it. A wave of relief flooded over me, but I was still fucking dazed and confused. I needed my mum.

I threw on the first dress I could find and headed on down to the Fountain. Thank God I'd bought my mum's present before the tornado had hit. The place looked fabulous, she had gotten some new decor, and the tables were all set out for a feast for the stoned, the confused and the weary. I was certainly weary, and as Mum rushed towards me with a spliff in her hand I figured number two would soon be taken care of. I held out my arms for her and pulled her into a glorious hug. Gina Campbell, she was gorgeous, welcoming and young at heart. She had been through plenty of shit in her life, but she always had an optimistic smile on her face and was always thinking of other people before herself. She was so generous, free-thinking and adventurous. How did she end up with a mardy, cynical, sarcastic bitch of a daughter like me? I must have been rebelling or something. Time to get over it.

Mum pulled out of the hug and looked me up and down. It must have been so obvious to her that I was in some kind of a state, but she chose not to pry. I was sure she would suss it out soon enough. As I watched Justin coming towards me with a big smile on his face, I took a big drag on Mum's spliff and faked nonchalance. One thing I knew for sure was that I wasn't confused. Emily owned my heart, and Justin had never got near it. Maybe it would have been kinder just to tell him straight away, but a big gang of Mum's friends burst in bearing champagne, and I didn't want to cause a scene. So I gave him a cursory hug, and went off to greet the random bunch of hippies who had known me from the festival scene since I was a little kid. Slowly, more and more people arrived, and the guys from my circus started to drift in. Panda and Thomas first, then Cook and then the boys. The party was already in full swing, but there was still no sign of Effy or the Fitch twins. I started to panic, not helped by my Mum having given me a whopping great line of some kind of herbal cocaine alternative that was making me jittery. Oh God, what if Emily wasn't coming? What if she hated me for not being brave? What if she was too busy telling Katie what a cunt I was. What if Katie was about to come down here and punch my lights out? What if....Oh...

Effy, Katie and Emily fashionably late, making an entrance. Heads turned in the tent as the three of them posed, yes fucking posed in the doorway. You could almost feel the testosterone rising in the air as half the men at the party, sucked their bellies in and suddenly stood a little bit taller. Not that there weren't quite a few women casting a not so sneaky glance either. Katie and Effy looked amazing, all done up to the nines each in their own individual style, and how they got their hair to look that good in a caravan in the middle of a park was beyond me. But Emily.....I actually dropped my fucking champagne glass. Smooth Naomi, smooth. She looked devastating. Her beautiful red hair was up, with delicate stray strands falling down around her neck and face, and she was wearing this astounding figure-hugging electric blue dress, that curved around her perfect ass, and showed me just enough cleavage to remind me exactly what I had been doing with those wonderful breasts for the past few days. She prowled across the tent like the fucking lioness that she is, totally ignoring me and heading straight for my mum, giving her a gift and a huge hug. I started shaking as I watched her then make a beeline for Justin. Oh shit, was this the moment in which she would destroy me? Much to my surprise she did nothing but give him a friendly hug, and a peck on the cheek. It was what she did next that put the arrow in my heart. Once again Effy was right, Emily had killer instinct.

She stood next to Justin and stared right at me, then simply raised one eyebrow. God, she was better than good, she was flawless. She wasn't going to make a scene, she didn't need to. She was simply showing me what I would be missing out on if I cocked things up with her. I drooled back at the drop dead gorgeous redhead, stood next to my very average looking boyfriend in his stupid circus trousers. Ok, Emily, you win. You win in every fucking way. She smiled, once she'd seen that I'd got the message, and left to charm her way round the party. She was far too clever, although she kept throwing me glances to make sure I watching, she wouldn't let me near her. It worked. I couldn't take my eyes off her all night, and bristled with envy when anyone else got to touch her or dance with her. Even though quite a few people tried to get just that bit too close to her, Ems wasn't playing any petty games, or trying to make me jealous. She wasn't trying to hurt me. She was just standing her ground, and it suddenly became the world's most effective weapon. She killed me where I stood.

"So that's why you looked so bloody wrecked when you walked in here," said my Mum, suddenly appearing beside me.

"What do you mean?" I countered, knowing full well she could see right through me.

"You've been sleeping with Emily."

There was no kind of judgement in her voice. That is one of the advantages of having a hippy for a mum. Whatever kind of stupid shit you get yourself involved in, they've probably done it all before, twice, and whilst high on acid.

"I love her, Mum." I blurted out. "I'm completely fucking in love with her, and it terrifies me. It's huge, it's overwhelming, and I'm just so fucking scared. I can't control it. She's taking me over and I think I might lose myself in her."

It was such a relief just to tell someone. Gina smiled warmly at me and dragged me off to a side table for another line of the surprisingly effective herbal high. Another advantage of a hippy mother, they've always got more drugs than you.

"The people who make us happy are never the ones we expect," she said to me. "So when you find someone, you've got to cherish it. It's time to stop hiding, Naomi sweetheart. Let the world see you. Let Emily see you. I've kept the secret to myself for too long."

"What secret?" I asked her.

"The secret of just how much love you keep hidden away in that heart of yours," she replied.

The exhaustion and the emotional overload finally bodyslammed me into submission, and for the first time in maybe fifteen years or so, I clung onto my mother and cried like a baby.

**A/N Yep, the brilliance of 'sex tornado' was borrowed from a master. Thanks again Blondie. And a special hello to all my French readers, as we are having a great time in France and the French audiences are brilliant. **

**See you all again soon, Hypes x**


	22. 22 The Shape of the World

**A/N An unusually fast update as we only had one early show today. This one goes out to FaithSky, simply because her new story Sweet Disposition is making me so damn happy at the moment. If you like this, you'll love that. A highly recommended read. Also a big shout to all the new readers, and people who commented for the first time. Thanks for being here.**

**I don't own Skins, but I'll always remember the time we had together**

22. The Shape of the World

Emily

So I had played it cool, and it had worked. For that night I had actually become the woman of Katie's stories, the straight girl fanny magnet who could reduce any woman to jelly. I had dressed to kill, a silent assasin, and from what I could see my intended victim had been mercilessly taken out. She didn't need to know that all I wanted to do was drop the stupid facade and throw myself in to her arms begging her to tell the world she loved me. She didn't need to know that as I watched her with her beautiful mother, I desperately wished I had a mum to run to. Not cold-hearted Jenna and her disapproving stare, who would have been actively encouraging Naomi to stay with Justin, and asking if he had any mates for me. No I needed my new mum. I needed Anthea to come and smack him round the head and throw him off the premises. Not that he deserved it. I actually felt sorry for the poor bastard at one point, when he came up to me and asked me if there was anything wrong with Naomi.

"She's not been the same since she had that accident," he said. "You're her best friend, what's up with her?"

"It's not my place to say, you'll have to ask her," I replied reluctantly. Ok, so I wasn't that sorry for him, despite the fact that he seemed genuinely worried about her. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him to fuck off cause she was mine, but why should I do Naomi's dirty work for her? I knew I wasn't exactly on the moral high ground here, but I simply wasn't prepared to give up what I had found over the last few days. Naomi had awoken sleeping dragons in my soul, and I was prepared to do a lot worse things than lying to keep her. I went off to engage in some dirty dancing with Cook, making sure Naomi had a grandstand view of my ass moving suggestively in my skin tight dress. I turned around so I had my back to him, and let him put his hands on my hips and pull me closer. I had to elbow him in the ribs a few times when he tried to move them upwards towards my breasts. My breasts were for Naomi only, but there was no harm in making her feel like the luckiest woman alive that they were. Next time I caught her staring, and ran my hand across my head then down around my neck, before letting it slide slowly across my tit, watching her face as I did it. I saw her catch her breath and watched the tortured pain in her eyes, and I knew I was making her wet. I felt a power surge within me. God, I loved turning her on. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one I was doing it to.

"Emily, you are lookin so fuckin sexy tonight," murmured Cook into my neck, as I felt his dick start to harden against me. "Are you sure you don't want to try it with a man?"

Well there was this one time in Thailand, I almost started to tell him, but I thought it was too cruel to give him the impression that he had any kind of chance, especially when I was already fucking his best friend.

"Sorry Cook," I turned round and kissed him on the cheek, before taking my leave.

"Well, if you ever change your mind," he grinned, spreading his arms open to the side, showing himself off. God, that boy was an optimist. I'm sure he got half his shags through sheer persistence. Even when he was trying to fuck you, he was still kinda charming with it.

Unfortunately, I had allowed myself to be distracted by Cook long enough for Naomi to creep up on me.

"Enough," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the back of the tent and onto her mum's double decker bus. I was expecting some kind of sexual attack, but she just threw me away from her and looked at me.

"I get it, Emily, I do," she said urgently. "You look fucking amazing, and no one in their right mind would choose Justin over you. And I haven't, I won't. I wasn't lying back on Guernsey. You are the only one I want. All I can think about is you. I've barely been able to speak to anyone at this party, cause I'm constantly looking over their shoulder just to find you, to see what you're doing, and who you're with and wishing it was me. If the world was suddenly about to end and I could only do one more thing before I died, it would be to put my hand up that bloody dress and feel your wetness. I want to do it now. I want to take you up to the top deck and fuck you on my mum's bed until the sun comes up."

"Oh God, Naoms.." I said, ready to throw in the towel on the powerplay. I had made my point. I tried to close the distance between us, put she put up her hands to stop me.

"Babes, I wanna kiss you," I pleaded.

"I can't," she said, her eyes starting to tear up. "You know I won't be able to stop. I have no control when I'm with you. I'm really scared about what's going to happen, when there really is nothing standing in our way. I feel like very soon you're going to completely take me over, but I can't do it tonight, I want to be there for Gina, and I don't want to destroy Justin miles from home in the middle of the night. But I swear, the next time I kiss you, I'll be completely yours."

I tore my gaze away from her and stared at the ceiling. Shit, I thought love was supposed to be all rainbows and butterflies, not _this_. Not the colossal forces of tectonic shift, not earthquakes, hurricanes, volcanoes and floods. Next time you kiss me Naomi, seismologists the world over will be rushing towards their machines with the scratchy paper in alarm as we invent a whole new number on the Richter scale. Next time you kiss me Naomi, the shape of the world will change.

We stared at each other paralysed. I felt as if some kind of monster had ripped open my chest and was throwing bits of my heart round the room for fun.

"I'll go," I said eventually.

She just nodded. I walked to the door of the bus, and turned back smiling, giving her one last glimpse of the electric blue dress of doom.

"You know you're gonna have to wear that for me again," she said.

"I know," I grinned back at her, and turned to go.

"I will be there to catch you," her voice rang in my ears as I walked away.

I couldn't sleep. I lay awake on top of my bed, having changed out of my armour into my far more comfortable combats and Circus Abandon hoodie. I heard various members of the troupe staggering back across our site, and knew it would only be a matter of time before I would be invaded by a very wasted Katie. Much as though I love my sister, she doesn't half snore when she passes out on her back from booze and drugs, and I didn't think I could stand it. But where to go? I knew where I wanted to be, I wanted to be in the arms of my fucking beautiful lover, but that wasn't going to happen so I tried to weigh up the alternatives. Freddie would be monged out, Panda and Thomas would probably be shagging, JJ was probably asleep by now, and going to Cook's at this time of night would definitely give him the wrong impression. That left the tent. At least it was some kind of home. I crawled under the canvas and switched on the emergency lights. I looked around at the large canvas palace that had become such a big part of my life, and felt like I belonged. I climbed up one of the kingpoles and out onto the rigging bar. Sometimes I felt more comfortable up here than I did on the ground. The ground was boring, it was a disappointment. Down there you had to deal with stuff. Up here, you only had to concentrate on staying alive. I leaned back and flipped my legs up until I was lying on my back on top of the truss. I didn't need to hold on. Most people would be terrified up here. To me it was the safest place on earth.

I don't know how long I had been lying there staring at the roof of the tent when a voice interrupted my reverie.

"I'm gonna have to get health and safety onto you. No harness, and you're drunk."

It was the voice of the woman I loved teasing me. I knew she was as much of a mountain goat as me and only wore her harness when she had to.

"You should get down," she continued. I sat up, locked my legs back round the truss and looked down at her.

"You gonna come up and make me," I challenged her.

"Don't think I won't," she grinned.

"I'm counting on it," I taunted in reply.

That was it. She was off the ground in a heartbeat, and climbing up towards me. She swung herself out onto the rigging bar and slid along to meet me, sitting behind me and wrapping her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"What are you doing here, Ems?" she asked me, as I relaxed back into her embrace.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither, and I often come up here to think."

"Well we should be safe, now that I've taken off that dress."

Naomi just laughed.

"Oh you think?" she said smiling. "You know I find you just as sexy in your hoodie. In fact you could be wearing socks and sandals and a hessian sack, and I would still want to fuck you blind. Nothing about you is safe, Ems, but I don't want to be safe any more. I throw myself off that cloudswing everyday, and people think it's dangerous, but it's not because I know what I'm doing. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with you, hun, but I'm starting to get addicted to the risk."

I felt her pull away from me and turned around to watch her put her hands on the truss and bring her knees up underneath her till she was on all fours. Then she shifted her position again till she was crouching with her feet on the top of the truss, and I knew what she was going to do. Our rigging bar hung far enough under the main cupola so that Naomi could do cloudswing without hitting the sides of the tent. If you stood up on it there was nothing to hold onto. I watched as Naomi found her balance and rose to standing, nothing but her own confidence keeping her from falling. My decision was a quick one, moving carefully so as not to jolt the bar around I turned around to face her, brought my feet up underneath me, and slowly rose to standing. We stood facing each other, not touching, perfectly still, and I realised what we were doing. Creating another memory that was ours, and ours alone. It was fucking beautiful. And it was fucking sexy, lust and danger - perfect combination.

"Cook would have a fit if he saw us up here like this," I said when I couldn't stand the erotic tension any longer.

"Cook would have a fucking hard-on if he saw us up here like this," laughed Naomi.

She took one of my hands, and we sat down together, making ourselves secure on the truss again. After that we just sat there talking rubbish until our bums got sore. Naomi kept saying she had to leave, reminding me that she had a boyfriend to leave in the morning, but some how she never made it out of the tent. We lay on our backs on the crash mats, not daring to get to close, and talked more rubbish, until long after the first streaks of daylight had started to seep into the tent.

"We should try and get some sleep," she said eventually.

"I've forgotten what that's like," I admitted wearily.

"I can't wait to sleep with you." sighed Naomi.

"What, as in actual sleep?"

"Yeah, it'll be a novelty."

I staggered back to the caravan to find Katie and Effy crashed out on Katie's bed, the pair of them both still fully clothed and Katie true to form, snoring like a trooper. I wondered how the hell Effy was managing to sleep through the cacophony, until I remembered she had medication to knock her out at night. Katie was so out of it, I managed to roll her onto her side without waking her. Peace at last. I flopped onto my own bed and glanced at the clock beside it. It was eight in the morning as I finally slipped into unconsciousness.

It was ten in the morning when I woke up again with a start. Oh my God, this was it. I was as excited a a six year old kid on Christmas morning. Today I was going to get the best fucking present of my life. Today Naomi was going to leave her boyfriend. Today I was going to get to be with her again, forever. Hang on, did I just think forever? Shit, maybe four days of fucking was a little bit too tenuous a foundation to base that kind of proclamation on. Aw fuck it, two weeks, two months, two years, two decades, whatever time I was gonna have with Naomi was going to start today, and I was going to enjoy it. I jumped out of bed like a spring lamb, and reached for last night's hoodie. I stopped for a moment, wondering if I should wear something nice, but fuck it, Naomi said she'd fancy me in anything and I was too eager to get out there and see if that frigging white van was out of my fucking life yet.

"Emilio Fitch, light of my life," yelled Cook, as I practically fell out of the caravan. He was looking far too lively for this time in the morning, until I looked at his pupils. Still high.

"I fucking love you, man," he said, pulling me into one of his bear hugs. "What a fuckin party, eh?"

"Have you seen Justin?" I asked him. Luckily he was far too wrecked to notice just exactly how lame my attempt at being casual actually was.

"Nah" he shrugged. "Wanna see him though. Was gonna ask him if he wanted to come to Cornwall with us to help out with that parade thing. What do ya think?"

I snorted with barely concealed contemptuous laughter.

"I think that's a really bad idea, Cook."

"Why?" he asked, obviously confused as to why I should question whatever genius plan he'd come up with when he'd been munted.

"You know how Naomi doesn't like to mix her personal life with work," I said, attempting to invent a valid reason. What a pile of horse shit, me and her had totally fucking screwed our so called 'professional' relationship. Suddenly the sound of shouting cut throught the air, and Cook and I both turned round to see the door of Naomi's truck being slammed shut. We watched as Justin, with a face like thunder ran across the site and sped away in his van with a screeching of tires and a smell of burning rubber.

"What the fuck?" said Cook.

Seconds later, Naomi emerged from her truck with her head down, and just ran away, without looking at anyone.

"What the fuck?" said Cook again.

I didn't make a decision. There was only one thing to do and my body just upped and ran right after her at full pelt.

"What the fuck?" I heard Cook say for the third time as I sped after my fleeing lover as she disappeared across the park. I didn't yell after her, or try to make her stop. I knew that my Fitch Fitness training and her consistent cigarette consumption would make for an uneven match in the cardio-vascular department. I was proved right soon enough as she stopped breathlessly, and sat down on the steps of some kind of monument thingy.

"Are you OK?" I asked her, the most universally stupid question of all time. She was shaking, and crying, and clearly not OK at all.

"He was so angry," she said, sounding shell-shocked.

"Did he hurt you?" I asked, my muscles tensing into full on Killer Fitch mode as I prepared myself to hunt him down and destroy him.

"No," she assured me, "But It was horrible, Ems. I didn't know he had that much venom in him."

"Did you tell him about me?"

"Yeah, I figured I owed him the truth. But I wasn't prepared for his reaction. I mean, I'd told him about Cassie and stuff, but I guess he never took that side of me seriously. Maybe, I didn't either, but you've changed all that, Ems. I don't think I can live without you. I don't think I can fucking breathe without you."

Her big blue eyes looked up at me in absolute panic, as if she was genuinely afraid she was about to expire. She was still shaking, and I don't think I had ever seen her looking that vulnerable. I was with her in a heartbeat, wrapping her in my strong Fitch arms and kissing her tear-stained cheeks. She pulled back out of the embrace and held my gaze intently, her eyes telling me just how much of herself she had risked to get us this far.

"Don't leave me," she pleaded, as if she were pleading for her life.

At that moment I would have willingly died for her.

"I won't," I said, pulling her back into my arms, and clinging onto her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. Which of course, she was.

"I love you," I told her. "I'll never leave you."

And I meant it. I cupped her face in my hands and gently brought her in for the kiss I knew would change the face of everything I knew. That kiss was the closest I have ever come to divinity. Love, sex, lust, friendship, adoration, awe and a promise that I would never, ever let her down, all swirled around in that glorious and unholy kiss as I let her push her tongue deep inside my mouth. Every nerve, every muscle fibre, every cell in my body danced with joy at the sensation of a part of this most amazing woman moving inside of me again. An explosion between my thighs alerted me to how much more of her I needed inside me, and how badly I needed it. I had never needed anyone as much as I needed her right now. The sensation was so overwhelming, I even forgot to be scared. I never wanted to break that kiss, I wanted to die in it's sensual embrace. I didn't need to believe in heaven, cause what the fuck could be better than this?

"I love you so fucking much," I gasped breathlessly. No more pretending. No more covering up. Today was the day the shape of the world would change.

"I want to tell people," she said pressing her forehead against mine.

"I think they're gonna kind of work it out when I can't keep my hands off you," I said, my hands roaming over her body as if to prove a point.

"No," she said, grabbing my wrists and stopping the distraction. "I want to _tell_ people. I want to tell them we're together, and that I'm in love with you."

That stopped me in my tracks. Naomi going public? I knew how huge a deal that was for her. This was Naomi leaping from the cliff. This was Naomi being brave.

"We'll tell them together," I said, pulling her in for one more hyperkiss. I would be there to catch her.


	23. 23 Twin Suns

**A/N Yeah, the Hypes is just a writing machine at the moment, but enjoy it while you can for next week will be another tent down and moving week, and we're switching countries again. Next stop Bath, UK. This chapter goes out to Circs and Klara - for the challenge. And to cardioklepto who really should sign up so I can talk to you, and of course to everyone else, just for being there and enjoying the story.**

**I don't own Skins, but we've shared some special moments **

23. Twin Suns

Naomi

She finally released me from the kiss to end all kisses. She wiped my tears away with the sleeve of her hoodie. She told me she loved me again. My whole consciousness was filled with her. Everything was her, and she was everything. All the hurt, and pain and loneliness and anxiety I had ever experienced melted away in that moment, because she was finally mine. It wasn't just a holiday island sex tornado fling. It was real. She was going to stay with me and be my lover. Suddenly it was OK to have my heart exploding in my chest every time I saw her. It was OK to want to touch her constantly, to want to wake up to those beautiful brown eyes every morning. It was absolutely fine to kiss her any time I felt like it, which was all the fucking time. It was alright to think about her naked, and to worship at the altar of the Divine Breasts of Emily Fitch. It was perfectly acceptable that my mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of increasingly hot girl on girl action. All the illicit desires and feelings that had been tearing me apart for months were now perfectly legitimate. Emily was my girlfriend, and I could do what the fuck I liked. And I wanted to give in, I wanted to let those desires flood over me and be helpless in their wake. I wanted to drown in her.

"Oh, fuck, shit, Naoms..." I heard her groan, the most beautiful sound on earth.

"Oh God, Hun....shit! Woah, Babes," she said. She wanted me to stop? I tried to blink myself out of my 'Emily is the only thing that exists for me' coma to find out what she wanted.

"Maybe it's not such a good idea for you to actually try and fuck me on this monument," she giggled.

I looked down at my hand which was purposefully working its way down the front of her trousers. I looked up, realising where we were. The park was closed to the public as the infrastructure for the festival was being put in, but there were still plenty of workers around, two of whom were staring at us in their hard hats and hi-vis vests, with enormous grins on their faces.

"I know you're up for being more sexually adventurous," teased Emily. "But I don't think we're quite ready for a public show just yet."

I yanked my hand out from Emily's crotch and pulled her to her feet.

"Told you I had no control around you," I muttered.

"Don't stop on our account girls," yelled one of the guys.

I was about to give him a mouthful, when Emily put her arm around my waist and started slowly walking us away.

"Sorry boys, that's all you get for now," she winked at them. "The rest is girls only."

She positively slinked away from them, and let her hand slide down onto my ass. I understood her then, she didn't need to get angry. She knew she had those guys in the palm of her hand. And Emily loved the power.

"How do you do it?" I asked her, as we strolled back up the park towards the tent.

"I might be as gay as a window," she grinned, "but you can't have Katie Fitch as a twin for this long without learning a thing or two about how to manipulate men."

Or stupid puppydog blonde girls who would follow you to the ends of the earth.

When we got back to site it looked eerily deserted. No-one was in their vehicles. Oh shit, had we scheduled some kind of meeting or rehearsal that I had managed to miss in the middle of my Fitch blindness? Then we saw Thomas jogging back to the tent from the toilets.

"Oh thank goodness you are here, Naomi," he said. "You must come to the tent immediately."

Shit, what was going on? I walked into the tent, where everyone was gathered looking slightly concerned, apart from Cook, who was laid on his back on the seating bank, giggling.

"You need to go and talk with the organisers," said Pandora. "There's some kind of problem with the licence, and Cookie's completely off his blinkin box."

I let go of Emily's hand, and leapt back into work mode. Our love announcement would have to wait. This was fucking serious.

My meeting with the organisers didn't leave me in a very good mood. It turns out they had made some kind of cock up on their licence application, and now a local resident had made a complaint, and the whole fucking festival was in jeopardy. This had serious implications for us. This was one of our big payers, it was one of the main sources of the matched funding we had used to help us to secure our grant. If the whole thing went tits up and we didn't get paid, then me and Cook would be stuffed. Of course we had a contract, but it wasn't a council, it was an independent company set up just for the festival, and if they went bust over this then getting any kind of money from them would be virtually impossible. They had an emergency meeting with the magistrates at four that afternoon in which everybody's fate hung in the balance. There was nothing I could do, except go back to the tent, tell the guys what was going on, and wait for news. Several pairs of expectant eyes turned towards me as I walked in, God I hated being the boss sometimes, especially when my business partner picked today of all days to revisit his fucked up youth. I explained the situation, but then realised there was someone missing. The one person who could possibly make everything feel alright. I looked around in panic until I found her, she was sat up on our trapeze, casually slung sideways and leaning against one of the ropes. My heart filled with pride that in a time of anxiety and uncertainty, she had gone to our place to make herself feel better. Fuck, I loved that girl, and it was time that everybody knew it.

"Actually, I do have some good news," I said, looking up at her, and I was rewarded with a smile of epic proportions. I took a deep breath, as she swung off and slithered down the rope to be with me. This was it, no going back now. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her in towards me.

"Emily and I have fallen in love," I announced. "It's the real deal. We've both left our partners and now we are officially together."

"Finally," scoffed Katie, rolling her eyes.

What? I glanced down at Emily. Ok, so maybe she would have told her sister, but she looked as confused as me. I looked at Effy next, she knew and Katie was her best friend after all, but Effy just smiled and shook her head.

"Actually, it's been fairly obvious that you've been in love with each other for some time," smiled Thomas.

"Yeah, it's been bonkers," added Panda. "We've all just been waiting for you to blinkin' get on with it."

I was completely shocked, and from the look on her face so was Ems.

"Did you know?" I turned to Freddie.

"Naomi, we were in the tent next to you in Guernsey," he said with a filthy smirk on his face.

"Shit, I thought we were trying to be quiet," hissed Emily.

"If that was you trying to be quiet, then I definitley need to invest in some earplugs now that things are out in the open," said JJ "I am certainly predicting an upward shift in the decibel level."

My face flushed red. Freds and JJ had heard us fucking, and everybody had known I was in love with Ems, except the one person who needed to know it the most. The woman of my dreams herself. She was finding the whole thing fucking hilarious, laughing away to herself as she reached up and brushed some hair away from my face before planting a sweet chaste kiss on my lips.

"Fucking typical, eh?" she whispered, and the smell of her so close to me again, sent my senses reeling, but the continued silence from my best mate had me worried. If everyone had known, then he would have known, which might have explained his recent willingness to throw himself into drug-fuelled oblivion. Cook loved shagging, and normally pretty much any girl would do. It wasn't often that he got attached to anyone in particular, but I knew that he had really liked Emily. Ok, so she was gay, and he didn't really stand a chance with her, but it had to hurt to watch his best mate stealing her heart. I went over to where he was sat, there was no way I would willingly hurt Cook, but I had to try to explain to him that nothing on this earth could have stopped us happening. My attraction for Emily was a force I simply couldn't contain. He was having none of it, Cook did his suffering alone. I saw him draw in the breath that only I knew he took before he always put on his mask again.

"Nice one Blondie," he said, jumping up and ruffling my hair. "You know I'm always up for a bit of hot lezzer action, and Emilio is sizzling hot! Just make sure you take some pictures for me, yeah?"

Poor Cook, always having to play the idiot hardman, when I knew there was so much more to him than that. If only he could learn to open up to his emotions. Shit, so I've only opened up to mine a few hours ago, and now I'm some kind of expert?

"How about a kiss for starters," said Emily, grabbing my hand and yanking me back into her embrace. She curled her hand around my neck and slid her tongue into my mouth. God she felt so good, I felt myself slipping happily back into my 'Emily is the only thing that exists for me' coma, until Katie's voice cut through my heavenly paradise.

"Please," she said disdainfully, just because you've finally managed to admit it to each other, doesn't mean I have to watch it."

Emily broke away laughing.

"So seriously," she said. "Every single one of you knew?"

"You were dazzling," said the one voice that hadn't yet made a comment on the matter. Effy the oracle, who had guided us to our fate, sat back in her favourite spot on the seating bank.

"You are like twin suns," she said. "The pair of you shine so brightly, illuminating our whole world with your brilliance. And ever since you entered each other's orbit, the gravitational pull has been immense, and inevitable. You circled around each other, the distance between you slowly decreasing, and with each rotation the attraction grew stronger, and the light you threw more fierce and more beautiful. Nothing in the whole universe could have stopped you, the force between you is too powerful. You were destined to merge and to shine together, burning with such a radiance as the world has never known. A blazing fucking beacon in the darkness."

"Fuck," I said softly, mentally apologising for every time I had let this beautiful creature get on my nerves.

"It's true," she said. "I have evidence."

She walked over with her laptop and placed it on the seats in front of me. She put it into slideshow mode, and clicked on a file marked 'The Lovers'. The screen sprang into life, and there it was laid out before us. Evidence. Photograph after photograph of me and Emily taken since the very start. Somehow Effy had managed to find all the moments we had kept hidden from each other. There were photos of Emily looking at me with such love in her eyes that I thought I was going to burst into tears on the spot. I hadn't been spared either, there was a series of close ups of my eyes where the want and the desire were practically searing up from the screen. There were images of us training together, both looking so happy we were as she had said fucking shining. There were photos of us partying together with such a sense of kinship in our eyes, as if we understood each other perfectly and didn't need words. And we were always touching each other. In my desperation not to give myself away when I was under the mistaken impression that Emily didn't want me, I had never realised just how much we touched. There were hugs, there were little touches of hands on backs and arms, whenever we were sat together we were always way too close to be just friends. And as the photos progressed, the emotions grew more intense, and until it was blindingly obvious to even the most unintuitive person that the two women in the pictures were earthshatteringly in love. Effy was obscenely talented, she had captured every little nuance of our developing relationship, and it was beautiful.

"Wow, breathed Emily by my side, and I turned to see her half smiling, half on the verge of tears.

I was so overcome with emotion that I was suddenly desperate to go outside for a cigarette. But then I remembered that my beautiful girlfriend who I loved so much was also the filthiest woman alive, and that there was something I was much more desperate for.

"Ems, perhaps we should go to my truck for a bit," I whispered dryly, ignoring all the smirks from everyone around me. There was no point trying to hide it any more.

"Oh yeah," she said in her extremely dirty husky sex growl. "Truck me."

Never in the history of rapid transit had two horny girls moved so fast between a tent and a truck. Oh my God, this was going to be mind-blowing. To have her, to finally have her truthfully and without restraint, I could barely even contemplate the forthcoming awesomeness.

"I love you, I fucking love you," I gasped as she backed me up the steps into my truck. We crashed into the sink unit opposite the door, and she rammed her hips hard against mine as she grabbed my hair and forced my lips against hers, opening her mouth and drawing me into her. I felt like I was being hit with thousand volt belts of electricity, as I practically threw her against the opposite wall and tore at her top, my hands making contact with her highly charged flesh for the first time. Her hands grabbed my ass and pulled me viciously against her, as she opened her legs to let one of mine slip between them.

"This is going to be so fucking good," she panted in my ear, as she started to ride my thigh, and I finally managed to undo her bra and get my hands on the bare flesh of her tits. It drove me fucking crazy and I bit down hard on her neck, causing her to scream out and her whole body to jerk violently against me.

"JJ better get them fucking earplugs," she growled, grabbing the nearest handful of my clothing and dragging me backwards towards the bed. "Cause I am gonna make you fucking scream."

I felt myself flood at her words. There was nothing I wanted more than to completely abandon myself to her. Let her fuck me blind, let her make me scream myself hoarse. I wanted it. I wanted all of her, and I wanted it completely.

"Just fuckin take me, Ems," I begged her. She didn't need asking twice. Never had I been so grateful for that fabulous Fitch strength as she picked me up and threw me on my back onto the bed. My heart was hammering and my breathing rapid as I knew I was about to get the fuck of my life. She took a moment to look me up and down with her lionesses glare, but that was long enough for me to realise.

"Oh, shit, No!" I said, springing back up of the bed and pushing her away from it. She looked shocked and disappointed, as I then turned away from her and started ripping at the bedding.

"What are you doing, Naoms?" she asked me.

"Changing the sheets," I replied, not stopping with my frantic activity.

"Babe, is now really an appropriate time for housework?" she smiled. "I don't mind if they're a little bit grubby, I was planning on getting all hot and sweaty and filthy in there."

The thought of it made me stagger and I reached out for the nearest available solid object to steady me, which just happened to be Emily.

"They smell of _him_," I explained. "He's been staying in here all week whilst we were in Guernsey. I don't want that. I don't want any trace of him there. I want our bed to smell of you."

"Whose bed?" she said so quietly, I could hardly hear her.

"Ours," I replied smugly. "That is unless you fancy shagging in the caravan in front of Katie."

"Probably not a good idea," she smiled, pulling me in for a gorgeous, lucious kiss that almost had me not caring what the bed smelt of. Until she spoke again.

"Ours," she breathed into my hair. "I like the sound of that."

So did I. Ems helped me make the bed and it made me smile that this small act of domesticity was our first act in the truck together, instead of the mind-altering fuckathon I was expecting.

"I'm getting wierdly into this," she admitted.

"Me too," I laughed.

"Next thing you know we'll be planning our first trip to Ikea and experiencing Lesbian Bed Death."

I must have looked panicked, cause Emily picked me up and swung me round and threw me down even harder onto the bed.

"Not with a Fabulous Fucking Fitch in your bed you won't, sweetheart," she purred at me laciviously. "I've heard those girls are animals."

"So where were we?" I gasped impatiently, all thoughts of domesticity obliterated from my mind, my body aching with molten passion for the girl I was about to give myself to completely. I watched her eyes turn black with desire.

"I'm just gonna fucking take you, and I'm gonna make you fucking scream," she said, reminding me of exactly where we were before our brutal interruption. Christ, I had never needed to be fucked so badly in my whole life.

"Say it again," I begged her. I just wanted to hear that gorgeous husky voice threatening to do bad things to me for the rest of my life.

"I'm gonna fucking take you and I'm gonna make you fucking scream," she said with even more menace than before, and leapt onto the bed, pinning me down hard against the mattress with a deliciously invasive kiss. I was helpless against her, but I wanted to be helpless. After all I had put her through I wanted to show her just how much I wanted to be hers. I let her strip me, I let her bite me, I let her devour my flesh. I let her fuck me so hard I didn't know what day it was, knowing all the time that my acquienscence was driving her insane with desire. I took eveything that she gave me, I was ravenous for her. Everytime she pushed, I pushed back harder against her. I could feel her sweating and hear her moaning as she worked to give me what I needed. I had never put myself in someone's hands like this. I had never trusted anyone the way I trusted Emily, but the payback was shocking and immense.

"Oh fuck, Ems," I screamed as the unbelievable sensations ripped through my body. I felt my throat opening and strange unfamilar guttural noises start to emerge. I couldn't help myself, the things she was making me feel were so far beyond my control, I had to roar like a tiger just to be able to cope. I was screaming at her, tearing at her, scratching, biting, pulling her harder and harder into me, until there was nothing but pure need and sensation , driving us towards an explosion I knew was going to rip me limb from limb. Every thrust was now accompanied by some kind of swearing or shrieking. I simply could hold it in any more she was making me feel so much.

"What are you doing to me?" I spluttered as she brought me ever closer to the orgasm I thought might actually kill me, but there was no rational thought left in her eyes. She was acting on pure animal instinct, her fingers were part of me now, and she could sense that I was about to crash over the edge into absolute savage pleasure.

"I love you," she said just before the thrust that sent me spiralling out of control, and had me screaming for my life. The truck must have been jumping around on its axles, as my body orgasmed so violently, I was practically in whiteout. Emily kept me on the high as I thrashed and screamed below her, until she sensed I was completely spent, and then brought me back gently into the realms of the living, breathing normal human beings. She kept her fingers inside me and my walls clung to her as we rode the aftershocks together. She rained down tiny kisses on my face, and told me how much she loved me. It was beautiful, but I didn't need to hear the words. After what she had just done to me I knew with every fibre of my being that I was loved as I had never been loved before. But even more triumphant than that was the fact that finally I had found someone brave enough to batter down my barriers, and that she had made me trust her enough to let her do it.


	24. 24 Waking Up

**Sorry it's taken so fucking long to update, but we've been working like dogs and travelling vast distances across Europe accompanied by all kinds of chaos and disaster - vehicle problems, broken wrists, wheels falling off caravans and many other disasters. But finally here we are in Bath UK, performing at Bath Fringe Festival. Only English dates so message me if ya wanna know more. Once again, thanks to NiceOneBlondie for 'sex tornado'.**

**This one is for Stunty. Thinking of ya mate.**

24. Waking up

Emily

Banging. There was some kind of banging going on. My brain was struggling to process the information my ears were sending it as I began the long, slow arduous journey back to a consciousness I was not prepared for. The first thing that I was aware of was that I was lying against something incredibly soft and warm. The second sensation was that whatever it was smelt beautiful. I took in a deep breath with my eyes still closed and inhaled the delicious scent. It stirred a memory in my still fuzzy brain, and as my eyelids started to flutter open in response, I slowly realised where I was. I was waking up in Naomi Campbell's arms. I was waking up in her bed. Our bed, she had called it, and my heart shone with the brilliance of both our suns at the thought of it. Finally. Finally we had admitted our feelings and acted on our desires, and arrived at a place it seemed we had been destined to reach from the start. She slept on beside me and I felt my breathing fall into rhythm with hers. A rhythm I wanted to know and learn and savour again and again on countless mornings like this.

Except this wasn't morning. There was something wrong about the light. And then the banging started again and I realised that it wasn't coming from inside my head, but from some kind of external source. I forced my eyes fully open just in time to see the door open and Cook making his way into the truck.

"Are you decent, ladies? Not shagging or anything?" he said, making the the most pathetically lame attempt to cover his eyes whilst still clearly looking in the hope of catching some action.

"Hard luck, Cook," I said. "Naomi's still asleep."

"Asleep?" he scoffed. "Oi Blondie, what the fuck?"

Naomi stirred beside me, rolling over to face me. Her eyes drifted open, and once she recognised the body in her bed, her whole face lit up with the most glorious of smiles.

"Morning beautiful," she grinned lazily at me.

"It's five in the afternoon, ya dumb blonde," laughed Cook, causing her to jump in surprise. "And again...Asleep? You've got a naked Emilio in your bed and the best you can do is sleep?"

Five in the afternoon? We must have just crashed out after...A smirk flashed across my face at the memory.

"Trust me, Cookie, there's been plenty of action," I assured him. "We haven't slept in four days. What you are witnessing is not laziness, but total sex burnout. This girl's an animal."

"I'm the animal?" muttered a still dozy Naomi. "You're the one that's worn me out, fucking sex tornado."

"Sex tornado?" I smirked. So that's what she thinks of me.

"Oh shit," she said looking sheepish. "I think that was supposed to stay in my head."

God, she was adorable. I ran my hand through the bottle blonde hair that was such a signfying part of my beautiful bold strong girl. Her hand drifted across onto my body under the covers. Our eyes locked, and I found myself instinctively whispering 'I love you' as soon as I was caught up in the inescapable blue tractor beam. That was enough for Naomi. She leaned in and kissed me, almost immediately deepening it into the kind of passionate sexual kisses we had shared everytime we had woken up together. It was gorgeous, and I felt my body starting to respond automatically, aching for her to move even closer. Naomi's animal must have sensed my desire, cause she rolled on top of me and started pushing her hips against mine. God, she felt so good that I almost let her continue when her kisses started trailing down my neck and collarbone towards their inevitable destination at my breasts. It was only the vision of Cook standing there with his eyes popping out that dragged me back to reality. I grabbed the back of her hair and pulled her away from me.

"What's wrong, babe?" she purred at me. "Not hungry this morning?"

I flashed my eyes to where Cook was still standing behind us grinning like a lion with a half dismembered zebra.

"Oh shit," said Naomi. "How do you do that to me?"

"Do what?" I asked.

"Make me forget the rest of the world fucking exists. Make me forget everything but you."

She was completely sincere. I could make the rest of the world stop for her. For a moment my world stopped turning too. I had idolised this woman, and now she was letting me closer than anyone else had ever got.

"And you," she said turning towards Cook, having fully recovered her senses. "What the fuck are you doing in here, you perv?"

"Is that anyway to talk to the man who has sorted out all our shit?" said Cook.

"No, but it's a way to talk to the man who was rolling around munted this morning when I had to sort out our shit," she countered.

They weren't angry with each other. Their insults were a light hearted sparring that had come from years of knowing each other. I watched them and realised that until now, Cook was probably the most important person in Naomi's life. I suddenly got scared that this thing between me and Naomi was going to mess with their dynamics, and put their world out of joint. That could affect everyone.

"Sometimes the things that shouldn't be done, have to be done," he said, attempting to get all Effy on us. "Look at you two, you shouldn't have slept together, but that seems to have turned out alright."

"Oh no," insisted Naomi. "We absolutely should have slept together, we had to. We were meant to be together."

"Don't get all deep and meaningful, babe," countered Cook. "It's not like you. You'll scare the poor girl off."

Far from it, James. Far from it.

"Well what did you sort out, dicksplash?" continued Naomi.

"They got the licence," grinned Cook, "but the band stages have to finish at eleven, so they want us to move our show to midnight to provide some late night entertainment. So you naughty lezzers get to be as filthy as you like."

Naomi jumped out of bed and ran over to hug Cook. She was stark bollock naked, but neither of them seemed to bat an eyelid. OK, so maybe their dynamics were doing just fine, and I was the insignificant part of the triangle. I felt a sudden twinge of jealousy, not because of a suspicion of anything sexual between them, but because they had such a history. They had shared so much together. I wanted to know my girl that well, to have stories to tell of our times together. To have little private in jokes that would reduce us both to tears of laughter, with a dismissive 'you had to be there' for anyone else. I wanted to make a life with her, to have common goals and aspirations. I wanted to have the things she had with Cook. Four days was not enough. I wanted more and more. Shit, I am fucking insatiable and Naomi doesn't let her relationships rule her life. What if I scare her off? Be cool, Ems, be cool. You have to let Cook matter. You have to understand.

"God for a moment there, I thought we were screwed," sighed a relieved Naomi.

"Relax, Naomikins," laughed Cook. "The only one getting screwed round here is you."

He winked at me over her shoulder, including me in the joke. I guess all our lives were being turned upside down right now, and we were all just struggling to find something to cling on to. I was suddenly reminded of a beautiful quote I once saw in a poetry fanzine - 'Falling, having nothing to cling on to, we learn how to fly.' Our bodies already knew, we did it every day. Now it was time to teach our hearts.

As I drifted happily back towards consciousness feeling fully rested for the first time in as long as I could remember, I became aware of a strange sensation in my stomach. It wasn't unpleasant, quite the opposite in fact. A rough hand was tracing patterns on my skin. A flyer's hand, callouses in all the right places. Her hand. I opened my eyes to see her leaning up on one elbow, gazing adoringly down at my belly as she idly played with it's surface. My mind flashed back to last evening. Naomi had jumped on me as soon as she had thrown Cook out of the truck, spreading me wide open with deep, searching kisses, and claiming we had to do something to celebrate. We actually even made it out of bed for an hour or so when it had transpired that in an uncharacteristic display of community spirit, Katie had cooked for everyone. She assured me that Effy had helped, but I suspected that that merely consisted of sitting in a corner looking gorgeous whilst trying not to let her fag smoke get too close to the food. Naomi and I ate like pigs. After four days of self-inflicted love struck starvation, we were absolutely ravenous. A couple of glasses of wine later, and my eyelids began to droop.

"Go to bed already," scoffed Katie. "We get it, you guys are shag bunnies. You don't need to pretend to be tired just as an excuse. Jesus, Ems. I thought you were bad when you were with Shayna, but now..."

I saw Naomi bristle slightly at the name of my former lover, but I kissed her fears away and dragged us both back to her truck. Despite my genuine tiredness, I made love to her slowly and deliciously. It was the most eloquent way I could think of to tell her that Shayna had nothing on her. That Naomi Campbell was the best and most beautiful lover I had ever had. But there would be no all night sexathon that night, almost as soon as I'd heard that beautiful voice cry out in the ecstasy of her orgasm, I collapsed down into her arms, and the heavy cloak of sleep wrapped itself gently around us.

And there she was staring down at me again, completely absorbed by every last detail of the delicate contours of my flesh.

"That's a nice way to wake up," I said.

"I just want to touch you all the time," she said dreamily. "What's that all about?"

"I don't know, Hun," I sighed. "But I'm not exactly complaining."

"You know, I was actually thinking about training before you woke up, but now..."

The glint in her eyes was enough to have me squirming around the bed, spreading my limbs and offering myself to her. An offer which she gladly accepted.

She was still whispering soft breathless curses in my ear, clinging onto my back, her walls still clenched around my fingers, when there was yet more banging on the door of the truck.

"If we stay quiet, maybe they'll think we're not in here and go away," suggested Naomi, unwillingly to let go of our most recent mindblowing moment.

"Naoms, I think half of Liverpool is going to know that we're in here," I said softly.

"Was I loud again?" she said, looking up at me.

To the rest of the world, Naomi Campbell was some kind of hardass cynic, but sometimes I saw such innocence in her eyes, it made me want to just wrap my arms around her and hold her safe forever.

"I think there might have been one or two calls to environmental health, yeah," I teased her.

"I don't understand, Ems," she said, sounding genuinely concerned. "I'm not normally this ...vocal."

I fucking love it that I can do things to her that no-one else has done. My confidence hit the roof.

"Well that's just what happens when you shag a sex tornado," I said, straddling her hips and going for the ticklish spot I'd already discovered on the side of her ribs.

"No!" she shrieked, and tried to squirm away from me, but she was helpless in the face of the awesome Fitch power. She was laughing like an idiot and tears were streaming down her face by the time we were interrupted by a jovial voice.

"Ooops, sorry girls, I thought you'd finished," said Gina, bundling into the truck with armfuls of bags.

I froze on the spot, absolutley mortified. _That_ was who was knocking before. She must have been outside when I was making her daughter scream like a banshee on acid. My blood turned to liquid nitrogen in my veins, and suddenly I was freezing. I remembered the cold look of disdain that shot into my mother's eyes if she even saw me holding hands with a girl, and it pissed me off that even now, that hatred still hung over me like a cloud. I know that Gina is no Jenna, but still the instinctive fear rose up within me.

"Emily's never finished, Mum," laughed Naomi, pulling me back down into her arms. "She's like a Duracell bunny when it comes to shagging."

"I thought as much," smiled Gina. "That's why I brought you some of my energy cake, and special rejuvenating smoothie, thought you might need it."

"Good plan," agreed Naomi. "We do have a show tonight and my little sex tornado's proper worn me out."

"Well, it certainly sounded like you were enjoying it," laughed Gina, winking at me.

As I listened to my girlfriend and her mum idly laughing together about our sex life, my emotions travelled through fear, to embarrassment to wondering why the hell did I have to get landed with a bigot for a mother. I loved Naomi, what we had together was beautiful and I was proud of it. I wanted to show my mum that I had found someone amazing and for her to be happy for me. Never gonna happen though. My Dad and Katie and James were all fine with who I am, but the fact that Naomi didn't have a dick would mean that Jenna would never welcome her into my life the way she welcomed Katie's boyfriends. Naomi must have noticed my frown, as she pulled me closer to her and kissed my forehead.

"You'll get used to her," she said kindly. "Sometimes I forget that other people aren't like us."

"I wish they were," I said with a heartfelt urgency that made Naomi squeeze me even tighter. "I don't get on with my mother, she just doesn't get me."

"Well you'll always be welcome round at my place sweetheart," soothed Gina. "You're part of the family now."

My eyes started to well up as she left with the knowledge that I'd never be able to return this favour to the woman I loved. Naomi kissed my face and stroked my cheek.

"I wish I could make it better for you, my love," she said.

"Oh God, Naoms. You do," I said, smothering myself in her gorgeousness. "You make everything so much better. I can't even remember what things were like before I met you."

She rolled me onto my back and kissed me, its tone travelling rapidly from consoling to passionate to sexual in one smooth motion.

"Oh God, Ems, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," she groaned, her body starting to undulate and her hands begining to make rapid journeys of their own. And she tells everyone I'm the insatiable one.

Eventually we dragged ourselves out of bed for training and rehearsals. This would be the first time we'd done the full show since Glastonbury, since Naomi's concussion, and since we had become lovers. It seemed a lifetime ago. So much had changed since then, it wasn't just a case of remembering the show, but trying to work out how it would fit in to our brand new shiny universe. I found myself wishing that Anthea was here to kick our arses back into shape with a haze of fag smoke and a few well timed acid comments, but she was in the Czech Republic with another piece she had made at an international theatre festival. I had to make do with imagining what she would say, and it proved to be quite amusing.

"What you smiling at," asked Naomi as we waited backstage during a scene between Panda and the boys. "Thinking about me naked?"

Jesus, I hadn't been but as soon as she mentioned it... I found myself having to cling onto a tent pole for support.

"Don't do that to me tonight," I warned her. "I might not make it back onstage."

"Oh I'm going to do much worse than that to you tonight," she said menacingly.

So much for a professional relationship.

"Well don't blame me if I fuck up your show for you," I said.

"Oh but then I'd have to punish you," smirked Naomi.

Mental note to self, must get my handcuffs out of the caravan.

Midnight came around and the tent was rammed with people. You have to love a Scouse audience. I've played in some towns in middle England where you can work your tits off and barely get a ripple of applause. Afterwards people will tell you that they really enjoyed it, but they never show it at the time, and it's fucking hard work. Now imagine the polar opposite, and you've got Liverpool. They're not shy about letting you know what they think. If they don't like you, you'll fucking know about it, but if they do they will scream and clap and yell, and totally get involved in what they're watching. Fortunately for us it was the latter experience we underwent that night. They went fucking mental, it was like having a whole tent full of Cooks and the atmosphere was electric. As we waited to go onstage for our doubles, Naomi started gyrating and mouthing '99 problems but a Fitch ain't one' at me. She was trying to wind me up, her fabulously eloquent eyes conveying but three words - I dare you.

Of course I accepted the challenge, it was a late night show and we could do what the fuck we liked. Our fight was brutal, and yet viciously erotic. We took it right into the audience's faces and they loved it, their reactions spurring us on until by the time we got into the air, we were so highly charged there was definitely going to be a rumble. All the bites, scratches and hair pulls were just that little bit too real, verging on the painful, but the adrenaline in our bodies reduced them to mere sex play. Whoever these characters were in this show, they certainly liked it rough. Naomi wouldn't keep her hands to where they were supposed to be. At every opportunity she would run them, down my back, up my thighs or around my ass. Even in the middle of the most violent of the fight moves, she was trying it on. When I bit down on my blood capsule, she smeared her fingers through the red liquid as it ran down my face, waited until she was in the next position of dominance, and then licked them clean as if she was tasting my blood. Thank fuck the weight of her body was holding me on at that point as all of mine turned to jelly, and visions of her licking my cum off her fingers just this very morning completely flooded my brain. Jesus, I was going to have to make her pay for that. Of course I would have my opportunity. After the fnal kick to the face she would have to hang there feigning unconscious whilst I could do whatever I liked to her. My descent across her body was deliciously tortuous. I could hear her breathing quicken above the music as I slid my hand down her thigh and perilous close to her clitoris. I could hear her desperately trying to stifle a moan as I pulled her vest top back and reintroduced the licking of her breast.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll be feeling it for days," I whispered in her ear as I spiraled down to a hand to hand grip. And then, as I pulled myself back up for the kiss, I stuck my tongue between her parted lips as I had wanted to do so many times before, and kissed her passionately until the flames in my biceps threatened to destroy me and I had to make the drop back to the floor. I left her there hanging, where she would have to remain until rescued by Pandora, breathless, ridiculously turned on and wet as an ocean. The audience erupted as I hit the ground and strode off smugly, convinced that my tribe would win the fictional war.

As the final scene appraoched, I nipped backstage to get my props for the firefight. Suddenly I found myself grabbed from behind and then spun round and pushed against the back of the set, my hands pinned above my head and a flaming blonde Goddess thrusting her gorgeous body roughly against my own.

"You better make good on that promise, Princess," she growled at me, " cause I am fucking feeling it already."

She made as if to kiss me, but then turned and ran back onstage at the last minute. This time she left me hanging. God this game of dare was exquisite, but it left me wondering if either of us would survive till the end of the show. Thankfully it wasn't that far away. Naomi held my hand in the blackout, as the audience went completely ballistic, and she didn't let go again until she had designated Panda and Thomas for tent shutdown, and dragged me back to the truck as if the world would come to an end if we didn't shag immediately. She took us straight to our bed and pulled me down on top of her where her dominance ended apbruptly. She knew what she wanted from me. I had made her a promise, and you must never break a promise to a lady.

I awoke with a start. I awoke with a fucking huge smile on my face. Sleep had once again been but the briefest of visitors during the night's exertions, but I wasn't tired. I felt wide awake. More awake and alive than I had been for my entire life. Or whatever it was that passed for a life before I met the woman who had changed every fucking thing I thought I knew. I stared at her back and her blonde hair spilling across the pillow, and tried to stifle the stupid huge emotions that gripped and shook my mind, my body and my soul. It was fucking ridiculous. We had been sleeping together for less than a week, and yet when I watched her sleeping I knew that I wanted to wake up next to this body for the rest of my life. I didn't think it, I just knew it. She was inside me, she was in my blood. How the fuck could this be possible? Katie had always been the one to dream of the perfect picture postcard partnership, and now she was alone. I had always thought the whole thing was a big pile of bollocks, and yet here I was, happily rejecting everything I had believed about so called love and romance over one Naomi Campbell.

"You're thinking too hard again," she told me, her back still facing me so she couldn't see my eyes.

"What the fuck?"

"I can always tell when you're thinking to hard. I can feel it."

"This is getting scary, Naoms."

She rolled over to face me. In the morning sunlight that crept in our bed she looked absolutely stunning.

"I know, but what can we do about it? Twin suns and all that, I think we just have to feel the burn, kid."

"As long as you're here with me," I said.

"Always," she replied.

It slipped from her lips so easily. Was she feeling the same? Perhaps she didn't even mean it like that. Even now, my hyperactive brain wouldn't stop whirring with all the possibilities. Naomi rolled on top of me and kissed my nose.

"Too much thinking," she smiled.

"You're a fine one to talk. You're always bloody thinking."

"It's true, I'm busy thinking right now."

"What about?"

"Breakfast," she stated with certainty.

For a tenth of a second I actually allowed myself believe she was talking about food. But one look at her face told me that a nice bowl of organic meusli was the last thing on her mind, as her eyes flicked down the bed to where she wanted to be. I felt myself growing wet for her even at that merest hint of her intention. Jesus, here we go again.

**A/N 'Falling, having nothing to cling to, we learn how to fly.' is not mine. I really did find it in a poetry fanzine years ago, and it's stayed with me ever since. It seemed to mean even more once I became an aerialist. I would love to credit the author, but sadly they were anonymous. So thank you, whoever you are.**


	25. 25 What Is This Feeling Called Love?

**Well hello from sunny Bath. Just done our first show here which was great, so I got all inspired and finished this chapter. I would like to draw your attention to my latest discovery, a hidden gem of a story called Half Asleep by RuinMyLife. Check it out if you haven't already, coz Im loving it. So in honour of Ruin and of random dedications I would like to send this one out to all of my readers who are med students - there seems to be quite a few of you. Enjoy - Hypes xx**

**I don't own Skins, but I'd like to buy it dinner sometime...**

25. What Is This Feeling Called Love?

Naomi

So this was love then was it? The thing I'd sworn I would never let into my life. And then Emily had come along and made me want it more than anything. But hell, do I now understand the phrase 'be careful what you wish for'. Panda should have warned me, she's been doing it for years. But then again watching some of the crazy stunts she pulls off in the show makes you realise that Panda is fucking fearless. She probably thinks this shit is fun. Love, I mean isn't it supposed to be all fluffy kittens and rainbows, and traipsing through meadows in floaty pastel coloured dresses, whilst some craftily hidden opera singers serenade you with 'The Flower Duet' in the background? Not this, this is fucking terrifying. Addictive, and terrifying. It's like that first moment when you're in an aeroplane and you hit turbulence, and your heart lurches as your tiny metal bucket that should never be up there is the first place gets buffeted by the forces of nature, and all you can think is 'is this it, is this it, is this the moment when the plane drops from the sky and we go hurtling unstoppably towards the earth?' This is the way I feel every time Emily looks into my eyes as she makes me come. Is this it? Am I gonna crash now? Except you eventually get used to turbulence. I don't think I'll ever get used to this.

Of course it is fucking sensational. We've been at this festival a week now, and I think I'm losing my grip on reality. Every morning I wake up to her, and every morning I just can't stop myself reaching for her, and needing to explore her more and more. Afternoons we might train, or hang out with the other guys and go see bands or street theatre groups, ususally finding at some point that we have to come up with some excuse to go back to the truck and get naked. And every night at the stroke of midnight we become the lovers and the fighters of our show, playing to packed houses screaming with enthusiasm. We egg each other on, the audiences egg us on. The whole troupe are just loving this stand. One night Cook got so carried away he actually did his dance naked. It brought the fucking house down. I wish Anthea could be here to see how much we've grown, though I know Effy emails her photos so she can keep track of our progess. I like to think she's laughing. After the shows we'll head off into the darkness, still high on our adrenalin, seeking new friends and new experiences, but it won't belong before I am consumed by Emily once more, and the pair of us will tumble back into our bed determined to get some sleep until an accidental locking of eyes or grazing of skin on skin pulls us straight back into the turbulent air of our love.

It's a surreal existence, we are living charmed lives. Out there in the real world people are going into offices, emptying the bins, arguing with the kids about vegetables, working the night shift in Sainsbury's, doing all the normal things that make the world go round. And where am I? Dancing about and swinging off stuff for a living. And locked in perpetual sexual combat with the most beautiful girl in the world. You'd think I'd be more grateful right? And I am. I can't actually believe how lucky I am right now. And that's my fucking problem.

I've always been scared of love and commitment. Just ask my mum. I'm not saying it's her fault, but we always moved around so much that no sooner had I made myself a proper friend as a kid, I would find myself getting ripped away from them again as we picked up and took off somewhere else. So I stopped making them, spent most of my chilhood and early teens as a loner, told myself I liked it that way. Independence above all else. I figured it made me strong, and I wanted to be strong. Of course when I met Cook all that changed, Mum had finally stopped wandering so much so that I could have a crack at getting some GCSEs and A-Levels. He was the only person who got through to me, cause I'd watched himself put himself on the line for me when I was a complete stranger, and I couldn't even begin to think of letting him down. And a kind of love blossomed between us, we cared about each other and loved working together but there was enough distance between us for it not to get too scary. I guess he's always been part of the reason why I've been able to get away with not investing to much emotion into my lovers. I had all I needed from Cook and we had a reason to stay together without all of the complications of romantic love. It was a low risk strategy, and I liked that.

It was what I'd hoped for with Emily. Another best friend and working partner. Another solid addition to the family I'd been carefully constructing around me for the past few years. But that had all been thrown to shit from the first time we performed together for Anthea and the others back in rehearsals. Ever since then I just been dragged inexorably by her massive gravitational force, until suddenly I'm in her arms, in her bed and in her body every fucking second I can be. I'm powerless to do anthing about it and that's what scares the shit out of me. Anybody else and I'd have been running by now. Even during those amazing two weeks with Cassie, the only thing that allowed me to fling myself into our affair with such abandon was the knowledge that come the end of the fortnight I would be safely back on the other side of the world. Extreme, I know, but it seemed to work from me. But however fucking scared I get, and that's pretty much more scared every time I let her _see_ me, I simply can't run away from Emily. I need her too much. I haven't actually asked her to move into the truck, but she's been there every night since she promised never to leave me, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

This morning I woke up and she wasn't in the bed. I was still only half awake when I started to panic, feeling around the empty spaces beside me like some fucking idiot. My heart was racing as I struggled to force myself into full consciousness, so I could start the hunt for the woman I simply couldn't let go. She hadn't broken her promise, had she? She simply couldn't break her promise. She wasn't allowed to do that. Imagine how stupid I felt when I found her, standing just a few feet away making me breakfast in bed. She was looking down at me fondly, she must have seen the whole fucking thing. She seemed to think it was charming, I felt like the most pathetic needy little shit alive. For fuck's sake Campbell, pull yourself together. This is Emily Fitch, hypercool conqueror of women's hearts. Carry on like this and surely it was only a matter of time before she would grow tired of my clinginess. I knew that my behaviour would have made me run a mile, so why wasn't she?

"It's OK, honey, I'm here," she said reassuringly, coming to sit beside me on the bed.

"I'm sorry, this isn't me," I muttered. "I just..."

She silenced me by kissing me gently on the lips.

"Don't worry," she said soothingly, reaching down and stroking my cheek, distracting me from her new found Effy-like abilities to be able to read my every thought. "I think I'd be exactly the same. It only makes me love you even more."

I reached out for her like a child with a grazed knee reaching out for its mother, needing her comfort to make the world alright again. She scooped me into her beautiful embrace and held me close to her beautiful breasts, and I clung onto her as if she was a superhero who'd just saved me from danger and was flying me to safety. Except she was my danger as well as my refuge.

"How are we going to do this, Ems?" I asked her. I was naked, and vulnerable, and barely knew how to function any more.

Emily peeled my face away from her chest, and looked unwaveringly into my eyes as a beautiful warm half smile lit up her features.

"Together," she said simply.

The thing that scares me more than anything is also the thing that I adore most in the world. I came undone at her words. There was one thing that had the power to overcome the fear, and that was the love itself. I released Emily from my vice like grip and lay back down on the bed, groaning with pleasure as she followed me down and parted my lips with one of those kisses that only she can give me. I pulled at the T-shirt which was the only thing she was wearing, I needed to feel her skin on mine. When my hungry eyes finallly rested on the unparallelled beauty of her naked torso, I thought I was going into cardiac arrest. Just as when I was concussed and my brain felt too big for my skull, now my heart felt too big for my chest. There was just too much love in in it. I feared it was going to burst. Emily's lips left mine and started to travel across my neck and shoulders, and down my arm. She moved her weight down my body and the top of her hip bone pressed against my rapidly dampening crotch, as one hand traced delicate patterns around my nipple, and the other supported her as she kissed and licked the soft skin inside my elbow. It was indescribably erotic, an unprecedented passion exploding within me as every millimetre of my flesh that was in contact with hers felt like it was burning...burning.

"Oh fuck, the toast," said Emily, jumping up and running to deal with the flaming conflagration under the grill, as the whole truck started to fill with the smell of burning. "Sorry, Hun. I'll make you some more."

"No," I said without any further explanation. All I could see was cutest bum in all existence as she went about her naked firefighting duties. Fuck me, the whole truck could go up in flames and all I would see would be that bum.

"Just fuck the fucking toast," I called to her. There were other far more important fires that needed her attention. Like the one between my legs.

"Your wish is my command, angel," she said, throwing the blackened corpses of the bread over her shoulder, not caring where they landed. Oh fuck the fucking fear. This love was the only thing that mattered. She came to me. She put her lips all over my body. She put her hands inside me, where they belonged. She fucked me and made love to me at the very same time. Every gorgeously filthy physical sensation amplified fourfold, by her unwavering gaze which told me I was the most precious thing in her universe. She was pushing herself hard and deep into my willing body, producing wave after wave of the unbelievable sensations that only she could bring, and yet at the same time I felt like she was wrapping me in a blanket of the warmest and most beautiful love that could exist between two people. A love I never thought I'd have the right to call my own. I was crying out for more. Literally. Screaming her name over and over again. Feeling the suspension of the truck rocking under the intensity of our passion. Is this it? Is this it? Is this the moment when I drop from the sky and go hurtling unstoppably towards the earth?' But Emily kept me flying, her beautiful brown eyes holding me steady through the turbulence. Higher and higher until just at the moment when I began to wonder whether it was actually possible to die of pleasure, she sent me freefalling. I clung to her once again, as my body rocked violently into orgasm, but she wouldn't let me get away with a retreat into the purely physical. She grabbed my hair and pulled my head back until she could see me. Until she could see right through me to the centre of the sun that shone only for her. There was no escape. She was witness to the total disintegration of one Naomi Campbell in the face of the most terrifying power in the universe.

"Fucking hell, Naoms, you were amazing," she whispered breathlessly against my skin. "That was so fucking beautiful."

She raised her head and conquered my eyes once more.

"I don't know how it's happening," she continued, "but it just keeps getting better and better."

"I know," I said quietly, tears starting to form in my eyes. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"Hey, it's OK, honey," she said softly, kissing my eyelids as I started to shake. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

"Seriously, what are you Emily?" I asked her. "Some kind of extra-terrestrial? A chosen one or a superhero, cause no-one else had ever come close to making me feel like this."

"I'm just a girl," she laughed, stroking my face with gentle fingers which belied the power with which she'd been using then just moments ago.

But you're not just any girl, are you Emily Fucking Fitch?

"I love you so fucking much," she whispered gently.

I knew she meant it, I knew I wanted it, but still the screaming terror wouldn't die. The screaming terror that the very next moment would be the moment that I'd lose her.

"I don't let people love me," I said honestly.

"So why do you let me?" she asked.

I knew exactly why. Something had happened last night which made me remember exactly why I had closed myself off to love for so long. A simple moment when we had been out and about on the last night of the festival had released a memory I'd been viciously repressing for years. I had to tell her. It was the only way I could move forward. The only way I could break down this barrier of fear. The only way I could understand this feeling called love, and take the chance to win her heart forever.

"Can we go somewhere?" I asked.

"Where?" she replied.

"Anywhere."

**If anyone wants a soundtrack for Naomi's fevered brain in this chapter listen to 'Feeling Called Love' by Pulp, it was certainly in my head when I was writing it. A bientot, my lovlies xx**


	26. 26 Another Place

26. Another Place

Emily

The anywhere I took her to was Crosby beach. The festival had finished and we were having a day off before taking the tent down. So we took our bikes and rode out of the park and out of the city, cycling the six or so miles north it would take us to reach the beach. Naomi looked a little confused when I went back to my caravan and came back with several random objects, telling her that we had to make an 'offering'. But I decided to retain my mystery and just told her that she'd understand when we got there. It was worth it just to see her face when we hit our destination. Pure delight. I love surprising Naomi. It always seems that she's already seen and done so much, it's a surprise to me that I can. But this was absolutely classic.

Cause Crosby beach isn't just any old beach. It's actualy the site of one of Britain's most wonderful pieces of outdoor public art. 'Another Place' by Anthony Gormley. A hundred iron men, life size replicas from a cast of the artist's own body, stand on the beach and into the water, stretching three kilometers along the shore and almost a kilometre away from land. All of them stand still, naked, perfectly upright. All of them stand staring out to to sea as if searching for something, or yearning for something better. And the effect is extremely powerful. As the tide goes in and out some of them are submerged and revealed, whilst others remain constantly shorebound, still staring off into the ocean, oblivious to their drowning companions. They stare off into the west, into the sunset, into the hope of new horizons. It's all very Naomi. I think it fits in with the way she likes to see herself, constantly surrounded by people, and yet always somehow alone.

She loves it, and I watch her adoringly as she goes skipping down the beach to explore the first few figures. They started out identical, but now time and the elements have transformed each of the numbered figures into a unique individual. Rust, seaweed and barnacles have each staked their claim, causing a multitude of different patterns and textures to weave their way across the surface of the stoic iron bodies, and greeting each one feels like meeting a new person. I've been here several times what with my Dad being from round here, and I still haven't got round to see them all. Though another delight of the piece is that whilst it is possible to touch and explore and become intimate with some of the figures, others will remain forever out of your reach. For the further away from the promenade you venture the more likely you are to discover that like many of the beaches in the North West, the vast, wide, flat and seemingly friendly landscape of Crosby holds a hidden treachery. It is full of mud and quicksand, and if you are intrepid enough to try to venture out towards some of the more distant figures you are likely to find yourself suddenly knee deep in shit. Learned that one the hard way.

I come up behind Naomi who has stopped in front of one of the statues and appears to be be cracking up with laughter. Looks like she's discovered one of the other delights of the work - human interaction. Another way that the figures become more individual over time, and are different each time you come back is that people put stuff on them. It all seems to be done in an amazing spirit of fun, and has little to do with vandalism and much more about people claiming the work and enjoying it as their own. Sometimes it will be a hat, sometimes some flowers, one time I saw one with dreadlocked wig and a stuffed dog on a piece of string. I peered round my laughing girlfriend to see what had her so amused to discover that some smart alec had graced this particular figure with a pair of bright orange water wings. Although it was funny, it was quite poignant in a way. All his compatriots looked as though they might launch themselves off into the water in search of a better life at any moment, and this poor bugger couldn't swim.

"Ok, I get it now," said Naomi, spinning me round, and hugging me from behind. "Which one do you want to make ours?"

Ours. There it was again, that word. It sent a shiver down my spine every time she said it. I know it was still ridiculously early days, but the feeling that I might actually have a future with this woman was the most exciting thing I had ever known. That was another way in which I was so different from my twin. She had always wanted the dream of a nice, settled perfect boyfriend, who would then turn into the perfect husband and the perfect father to her perfect kids, and when part of that dream had been so cruelly ripped away from her she had never fully recovered. I on the other hand think I had secretly always known that this was what I wanted. I wanted love to be out of control and dangerous. I wanted to be swept away on a wave of grand passion so powerful that I had no choice but to surf it or to die. All my denial about true love was just a smokescreen to protect myself from the thought that I would never really find a love that was true to the way my tiny teenage self had thought that it should be. But now I had found it, and it was so fucking beautiful and right. The challenge was how to make it last.

I knew it was harder for Naomi. She was the girl I'd been waiting for all my life, but I was a complete shock to her system. I knew she had asked me to bring her here for a reason, I knew there was something on her mind. She too had been hit by the wave, but she was still fighting it, and she was drowning. I knew I had to teach her how to ride it, but I also knew I had to let her ask me first. From the way she was holding me I knew she wasn't about to run, so I resolved just to enjoy the moment, and to let her reveal herself when she felt safe. So we continued our travels across the beach discovering more new silent friends along the way. One man had a blue Everton shirt on (I took a picture of that for my Dad), another a red Liverpool one, reflecting the city's football rivalry. A far more daring individual was sporting nothing but purple sequinned nipple tassles. Naomi slipped her hand into my own, and we wandered lazily across the sand in the beautiful sunshine. It was way too bloody perfect, and I couldn't help a satisfied smirk from crossing my face. I couldn't hide it from Naomi, she did keep gazing adoringly at me as we walked.

"What are you smirking at," she said accusingly.

I looked back over at her. Her gorgeous blonde hair was fluttering in the breeze and and her eyes matched the faultless infinite blue of the huge sky all around us. She really was the most stunning creature alive, and constant small warm pulses of joy shot up my arm from where our hands were still intertwined, but her sarky Campbell attitude just compelled me to take the piss.

"I dunno, Naoms. I just never figured you for the romantic strolling type," I teased.

"I can be romantic," she protested.

"Yeah right."

"How would you know? We've never actually even been on a date."

"Naomi, have you ever actually been on a date?"

"Of course I have," she scoffed back at me.

"Not one where you just go to the pub or for a meal," I said gently. "A real one, something special that you can treasure for the rest of your life."

"Oh," she said, looking at the floor.

I curled my free hand up into her hair, and pulled her face towards mine. I kissed her gently on the lips, and then rested our foreheads together.

"Then I guess I'm your first," I whispered.

She pulled me tight tight in towards her.

"Emily, you have no idea," she breathed into my neck.

She clung onto the embrace for what seemed like forever. I didn't care. I would wait for her. I would wait here all night to give her the time to say what she needed to say. But she wasn't ready yet.

"Come on," she said finally, taking my hand again and leading me further up the beach. "We've got to go and find our man."

I was kind of thinking that any of the unadorned figures would do, but Naomi seemed to have some kind of definite idea as to what she was looking for as she rejected man after man on our wanderings. We finally found ourselves further up the beach than I'd ever travelled before in a spot that was more isolated from the traces of civilisation inland.

"This one," said said firmly, making her decision. I looked at him, around him and at the context in which he stood, and I knew why she had chosen him. He seemed even more lonely than all the others.

"He looks like he needs a bit of loving," I said.

"Yeah," agreed Naomi. "Even if he's too stupid to realise it."

She wouldn't look at me after she'd let that slip, and I struggled with my impatience to know what the fuck was bugging her, and my resolution to give her time. God, she was fucking hard work sometimes, but then I never expected grand passion to be easy, did I? So I watched as she dressed our new found friend in the random items I had brought along with me. A turquoise beret, and pink feather boa and a belt and a holster with two toy guns. In the end he reminded me of a quote from Eddie Izzard - an action transvesite. It was a good look. He no longer looked lost and lonely, but armed and fabulous and ready for adventure. We stood beside him one one each shoulder, staring out with him at his new horizon, so suddenly full of potential.

"Ems..." said Naomi hesitantly.

Ok, here it comes. Be gentle with her.

"Yeah?"

"When was the first time you ever fell in love?"

Ok, I wasn't expecting that. I gave it some consideration.

"Faith," I replied finally.

She nodded as she took in the name.

"Who was she?" she asked me sombrely. I couldn't hold the joke in any longer.

"She was the Bad Slayer, Naomi," I giggled. "I just love me a badass woman."

"Jesus Emily, I'm being serious," she spat at me, before catching herself and lightening up. "Sorry babe."

Fuck me she was wound tight about something.

"Well Faith did kind of make me realise this whole liking girls thing wasn't going to be the adolescent phase my mother hoped it would be. God, the fantasies I used to have," I confessed.

"You like your bad girls, don't you Em?" she said. I knew she was thinking about Shayna.

"It's a weakness," I admitted. "But if you're talking about a real live actual person, then until recently I would have said my first ever girlfriend, Miki."

"What was she like?" questioned Naomi.

"She was cool. She brought me out. We used to have fun, get wasted. Stupid teenage stuff. She was a laugh."

"Why did you break up?"

"I moved in with her to get away from my stupid homophobic bitch of a mother. It was too soon. We were too young to deal with it. The fun just seemed to dry up when we got into domesticity."

"Did you love her?"

"I thought so at the time, but recent events have kind of shaken up my whole concepts of love, and being in love. Now I think the first time I truly fell in love was the first time I saw you on the cloudswing. It was the day you did your first throwout."

Her eyes shot round to face me.

"I did my first throwout at a workshop in London two years ago," she said, suspiciously.

"I know, I was there," I said. "Stuck on the other side of the room in the beginners trapeze class. I thought you were a fucking goddess, but I never saw you again until I walked into that rehearsal room in Bristol. All that time you'd been a fantasy just like Faith the fucking Vampire Slayer, and then all of a sudden you were real. I was shitting myself."

"But basically you're saying you fell in love with me the first time you saw me?"

Shit. I didn't want to freak her out any more than she already was, but I couldn't lie to her. If it was going to work, it had to work without secrets.

"Pretty much," I confessed.

"Fucking hell," she said, sliding down the side of our action transvestite as her legs went from beneath her.

"What about you?" I asked as casually as I could manage dropping down to sit beside her, whilst all the time my silent scream was raging. Please don't run. Please don't run. Please don't run.

"When was the first time you fell in love?" I nudged when she remained silent. She took a deep breath, like she was steadying herself for something.

"Haven't you ever wondered why I'm such a cold-hearted bitch?" she asked me. I opened my mouth to protest but she silenced me. She had finally found the guts to speak so I guessed I had better listen.

"I am, babe. Or at least I have been. I didn't exactly have a sheltered upbringing so I guess you could say I'd pretty much seen it all before I even got around to thinking about doing it myself. I never had that teenage love's young dream idea, I wasn't even looking for it, but then one day when I was sixteen I saw someone, and from the second I laid eyes on her I knew I was in love with her. I fell so hard in that instant. I fell so hard, it nearly fucking destroyed me. From then on I promised myself I'd never let anyone hurt me like that again. From then on my sexual relationships were mostly just that. Sexual, practical. It was years before I even went near another girl. I was twenty-one when I met Cassie, and she was safe because she lived on the other side of the world and was just, you know, well...Cassie. I became the ice queen, and I swore I'd never let love into my life. That's why I shagged jerks like Justin, so I could keep them at arm's length and never allow myself to care. I pushed the memory of that girl so far into my subconcious, but I let what she did to me ruin my whole fucking life."

I grabbed Naomi's hand and brought it up to my mouth, kissing her on the knuckles. I was desperate to know more. Whoever this bitch was, I hated her already, but I had to know who I was fighting against, if only to prove to Naomi that I would never be like her.

"Who was she?" I asked her gently, hoping she was ready to tell me.

Her eyes were moist with the beginnings of tears, but the faintest of smiles was playing across her beautiful lips. She took another deep breath and looked straight into my eyes.

"She was you," she said.

_What?_

******'Another Place' is a real artwork and it's totally amazing. If you ever find yourself in Liverpool UK, then check it out. Hypes xx**


	27. 27 Since She Was Sweet Sixteen

**A/N I don't normally apologise for cliffhangers, cause they're all part of the fun of the story, but I seriously never intended to leave you hanging with that one for so long. However the evil laptop of doom proved it was a complete drama queen and chose that particular moment at which to die. So I had to wait until we had a day off until I could go to the shop and get a new one. Now I am the owner of a shiny little netbook (so handy for writing any time any place any where), and here is the next chapter for your reading pleasure. Thanks for all the great reviews, I'm so glad you all liked the inclusion of 'Another Place' - I think the Liverpool tourist board owe me one for that, but I do love that place and that art and it is just Soooo Naomi.**

**This weeks blatant plagiarism shout goes out to Slushhy, for a line I have brazenly stolen from their review to go in the story, because it made me laugh like a drain. Cheers mate. **

**I don't own Skins, but I loved it from the first time I saw it ;-)**

27. Since She Was Sweet Sixteen

Emily

"What? No. I didn't. NO. I would never have. What?" I spluttered out before grinding to an astonished halt.

Naomi just looked calmly back at me.

"How could it have been me?" I asked her. "I didn't even know you when you were sixteen."

"That's the ridiculous thing. We didn't even properly meet, and yet still you managed to smash my heart into a thousand pieces. I can't believe I didn't realise it was you, but we were both so young, and you looked so different then. You had blond spiky hair."

Shit, I had just turned seventeen. Just left home. I was out and proud and rebellious and in your face. I seem to remember I was a bit of a cunt.

"What did I do to you?" I asked apprehensively.

"Nothing Ems. You were perfect. You've always been perfect."

"I don't understand."

"I need to tell you a story. The whole thing's been buried deep inside my brain, but the moment I saw you pick up that guitar last night I knew."

Last night, when we'd been doing our nightly wander around the site, we'd come across a campfire where they were playing music. It was all a bit drony guitar and bad bongo playing so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed a guitar from some hippy and launched into a version of Catatonia's 'Mulder and Scully'. I'd performed it, it was the only way I knew how to play. Of course I'd sung it for Naomi. A song about being in the grip of an uncontrollable love seemed to be the perfect choice. The people round the fire went mental when I'd finished, but I'd given the guitar back straight away. Always leave 'em wanting more, eh? But it would appear that the effect I'd had on my nervous lover was more profound that I had imagined.

"You used to play in a band," she smiled.

Fuck me. Freak Orgasm. We were a riot girl type punk band, and we were fucking awful.

"Oh my God, we were so shit," I gasped. "We could barely play."

"Weren't you undermining the patriarchal structures of conventional music, or something?" laughed Naomi.

"No, I think we were just shit."

"I didn't think so," she said, suddenly serious again. Not that I paid much attention to the rest of the band. I only had eyes for you."

"Where was this?"

"In Bristol. It was a Rape Crisis benefit my mum had helped to organise."

"I remember. In some big old church place."

"We had just landed in town, so that I could go to college. I didn't know many people there, so Mum dragged me along to the gig so I could meet more people and 'have some fun'. Of course being Gina, having fun seemed to mean helping out on the door, hanging banners and serving at the bar, so we got there way before everything kicked off. I was putting up some posters in the lobby when suddenly I heard the most awesome thrashy guitar sound coming from the main hall. It had all been kinda dull folksingers and performance poetry types up until then so obviously I was intrigued that there might actually be something I could enjoy at this gig after all. I poked my head into the room and in an instant I felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my stomach. There you were on stage. This tiny gorgeous girl filling the space with noise. I swear your guitar was almost as big as you were, but you looked so fucking proud of yourself, as if the gods had put you on this earth just to be fucking loud. When the poor sound engineer tried to get you to turn your amp down you just told him to 'shove it up his dick'. Your attitude was wonderful. I thought you were well hard. I was amazed that someone so small could be so powerful. I stood there just watching and drooling for the rest of the sound check, and by the time you had finished I knew I was in love.

You'd never guess it to look at me now, but I wasn't freaked out at all. Living the kind of life we did there had been plenty of gay people in my life, and even Mum had had one or two same sex flings. I wasn't frightened of love either. The pure force of you had blown my former cynicism out of the water. Mum had dragged me off to help her with something else so I never got to talk to you, but my belly was filled with a mounting sense of anticipation. I didn't even mind the folk singers, cause each song brought me one step closer to seeing you play again. There were plenty of lesbians at the gig and as I watched them touching or kissing each other I began to imagine doing those same things with you. It didn't feel weird or unnatural, it just felt right. I'd never really thought about liking girls before. I'd kind of just assumed I was straight, because I had no evidence to the contrary. But I was making no such assumptions any more. I guess you had that Emily Fitch magic even then. Though your mates all called you something different then, Vic or Vicki or something?"

"Vix," I confessed in embarrassment. "It was short for Vixen. We all had stupid band names then. Mine was Vixen de Gash."

Naomi nearly choked with laughter.

"I was seventeen," I protested. "We thought we were being cool."

"Oh but you were cool, Emily," said Naomi, once she had recovered. "I thought you were the coolest fucking thing on the planet. When you came back to play your hair was all wild and you had on crazy make up. You were beautiful. I stood stock still in the middle of a sea of jumping bodies, and let myself drown in you. All of a sudden my lonely teenage body was overwhelmed with emotions and physical sensations I'd never experienced before, and all I knew was how much I wanted to be with you. I convinced myself that you would have to feel the same. How could you not when I felt it so keenly. It had to be fate or something. By the time you'd finished your set my mind was made up. I was going to be brave. I was going to find you and ask you out. I was going to take you dancing, and I was going to kiss you and make you mine."

"So why didn't you?" I asked her urgently. "I mean you didn't, you couldn't have. There's no way I would have turned down a girl like you."

"I didn't get the chance, did I?" she snapped. "Instead I got my fucking heart ripped out."

Fuck me, what did I do? I know we used to get pretty out of it when we played gigs, but I just couldn't remember Naomi. There's no way I would have forgotten her. Jesus, I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. There's no way I would have just fucked her and dumped her, was there?

"What the fuck did I do?"

"You were kissing another girl."

Relief flooded over me.

"That's all?" I said thankfully.

"That's all?" echoed Naomi, her eyes welling up at the memory. "It was terrible. I walked into that room convinced I was going to find the love of my life, but some other bitch had you up against the wall, with her tongue down your throat and her hand up your fucking skirt. I was crushed, I was smashed into smithereens. I felt like I was being hit by a frenzied knife attacker. I had never known such pain. You were supposed to be mine, but she was all over you like a rash. And you were fucking loving it, that's what hurt the most. You were only supposed to be with me. You were only supposed to love me, but you were going to let some slag fuck you, and you were going to enjoy it."

Naomi's voice was cracking with bitterness as if she was actually reliving the moment.

"How was I supposed to know?" I offered helplessly.

"I don't know, Hun" she replied defeatedly. "All I know is that from the moment I left that room, leaving you behind with her, I went into an emotional meltdown. I hid in my room for days. I couldn't eat. I cried my fucking eyes out. It felt like part of me was being burnt away. When I finally emerged from that room I was not the same girl that went into it. A new Naomi Campbell had been born. The ice queen, the one without a heart."

I took a deep breath before I spoke again. She had clearly been fucking traumatised by this whole incident, but we were just kids. Surely it can't have meant that much?

"I don't mean to belittle your feelings Naoms," I started gently. "But doesn't it all seem a little extreme? I mean teenagers have all kinds of crazy hormones and emotions swirling around inside them. Surely you didn't need to destroy yourself over some crush?"

"You don't get it do you, Ems?" she said, the tears beginning to stream down her face. "It wasn't a crush. It was real. I loved you from the very first moment I saw you. I knew, I just knew you were the one for me, and if I couldn't have you then there wasn't going to be anyone else. When I saw you I saw so much more than just a girl with a guitar. My Mum says that there are things we can see and know subconsciously that we can't explain with current logic. And just look at fucking Effy. We only use a small proportion of what our brains are capable of, but you had spoken to some hidden part and told me you were my everything. When I found you with that girl I knew I'd lost my one chance of happiness, and the pain was unbearable. I thought I was going to die, it hurt so fucking much. I simply couldn't ever ever let that happen again. So I shut down everything. I pushed away the memory of you because I couldn't bear to think about it even for one second. My heart just became a thing that pumps the blood around my body. I completely gave up on love."

She let her head hang and her tears fall into her lap as she drew aimless patterns in the sand. She looked so broken, as if she was about to give up all over again, and there was no way I was going to let that happen.

"You did nothing of the sort," I said forcefully.

She snapped out of her stupor and brought her head back up to face me.

"What?" she said.

"Naomi Campbell you are full of love," I told her. "You are absolutely overflowing with love. It comes shining out of you."

She blinked away her tears and stared at me in confusion.

"But I never let anyone in," she protested.

"When did you meet Cook?" I asked her.

"When I was sixteen. Not long after…."

"And he would be in fucking jail by now if you hadn't. You took him on, babe. You fucking saved him with your love."

"Oh," she said softly.

"And what about the others?" I continued. "Do you honestly think Pandora would be happy out in the harshness of the world? Thomas is a refugee from a country torn apart by poverty, corruption and violence, and yet he found a home with you. JJ's found a place where no-one gives a shit about his Asperger's, and Freddie's had the boot up the arse he needed to be creative instead of just smoking his life away. All of them are living better lives because _you_ care. Because _you_ showed them love. It would have been so easy for you to just let Anthea send Effy home the first time she freaked out on us, but you didn't. You even fought to let her stay with us after rehearsals, to give her a place where she could feel safe. And you took in my heartbroken sister, even though it was me who really wanted to come. You're fucking awesome, Naomi. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know, and I fucking love you for it."

"But I'm still so fucking scared, Ems" she said.

"Why? You were obviously right. I am the one for you. And if you hadn't run away so quickly that night we might have found it out back then."

"You had a girlfriend, Em."

"Yeah, but she wasn't the girl in the room that night," I admitted. "If you'd asked me dancing I would have almost definitely said yes, then you could have been the one with your hand up my skirt."

"You tramp," accused Naomi, the light starting to brighten in her eyes once more.

"Miki and I had an open relationship," I shrugged. "I'd just come out. I had a brand new toy, and I wanted to play with it."

"But then I would have just been one of your playthings," she said sadly. "That would have been even worse."

"I doubt it. I think if I'd have seen you I'd have known too. I think we'd have been together all this time. Think about it, Hun. Eight more years of shagging."

Finally Naomi smiled again.

"So that's what the fucking sexathon's all about. You're trying to make up for lost time."

"Hey, I've only got two years of lost love to make up for," I teased her. "You're the one with eight years to get through."

"Doesn't it freak you out?" pushed Naomi. "It was love at first sight for both of us."

Fuck's sake, what was it going to take to get this girl to lighten up?

"No it doesn't freak me out," I said with conviction. "I believe in us. Whether it's fate, or your Mum's sixth sense, or bloody fairies sprinkling us with magic dust, I just know that I love you like I've never loved anyone else, and I want you like I've never wanted anyone else, and by God I am fucking well going to have you like I've never had anyone else."

"But you're not monogamous," said Naomi, her beautiful eyes filling with tears again. "And I'm terrified of feeling that pain again. I can't bear the thought of you being with anyone else. When I had to watch you be with Shayna it just killed me every time. The first time I saw you kiss, it was just like being sixteen and being ripped to shreds again. I have no defences against you, and I can't stand it."

So that's what this was all about.

"Listen Naoms, I've been with lots of people, in lots of different ways."

I saw her wince at the 'lots of people' part.

"I'm not one thing or another," I continued. "But right now I can't imagine ever wanting to be with someone who isn't you. And I will swear to any god you care to choose, in front of witnesses.…"

I swept my hand around to include all of the iron men on the beach

"….that you will never walk into a room and find me with another girl's hand up my skirt again."

"But I don't want to be a slave to the way I feel about you," she said plaintively.

I didn't mean to be cruel, but I just had to laugh.

"Sweetheart, you've been madly in love with me since the first time you saw me. So much so that you've never been in love with anyone else. Why can't you just be happy that I'm finally yours?"

"Are you?" she asked me.

I looked at the girl sat beside me, and she let me see right into her heart. She was emotionally naked, open, vulnerable. I knew she had never shown herself this clearly to anybody, not even Cook. From the first moments I had tried to fight my way out from my sister's shadow and my mother's bigotry I had always craved power, the power that I could use to stand against the world and show it who I was. But Naomi was handing me more power than I'd ever thought possible. It was unnerving. If I wanted to I could completely destroy her just like I unwittingly had once before. But this time it would be worse, because she would know that I would know what I was doing. Suddenly I understood why this love was so fucking terrifying for her. It meant she had to give herself completely, it meant she had no way out. I racked my brains for something I could say to let her know that she was safe, that it was ok to fall cause I would be there to catch her, but no words seemed to be enough. Instead I pulled her arms away from where she held them defensively in front of her. I straddled her lap and sat facing her, wiping her tears and her snot away with the sleeve of my jumper. I stared into those sad and beautiful eyes and stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers. And then I kissed her like I kissed her the first time I kissed her, outside the pub back on Guernsey. Except this time it wasn't like we'd been lovers for months. This time I kissed her liked we'd been lovers since she was sweet sixteen.

When I finally pulled away, she looked up at me with such devotion I don't know how she ever thought she could fight this.

"Aw Naomi, you are a goner," I told her. "Just go along with it."

She let her head fall back and laughed a raucous throaty laugh. It was like the fire had suddenly roared back into life inside her soul. She reached up behind her and patted metal action Eddie on his bum.

"Ok," she said, gracefully. "But any funny business and I'm gonna have to send my boys round."

We cycled back into town and found a pub with newspapers and sofas and food, had some dinner and settled back to chill for a while. I swear I thought I'd only just rested my eyes for a second, but when I opened them again, Naomi was smirking openly at me.

"What?" I said, blinking at her groggily.

"You fell asleep in the pub," she teased me in a singsong voice. "You were out for thirty minutes."

"No way," I protested. "I never do that."

"Well I guess I have kind of been keeping you awake nights," she grinned. "Suppose I better get you back to bed."

My eyes glazed over at the thought for a moment. Mmmm. Naomi. Bed. It inspired me to make the move to get my lazy ass off the sofa and back outside to my bike, but when Naomi unlocked hers she started speeding off in the opposite direction to the park.

"You're going the wrong way," I yelled, before I had no choice but to follow her. Hell, I'd always have no choice but to follow her. She rode us down to the waterfront and stopped outside a fancy modern hotel.

"Bed," she said, nodding towards the elegant lobby.

"Don't be daft, Naoms," I protested. "We can't afford this."

"Already done," she smirked again. "I booked it on Laterooms on my IPhone while you were sleeping. You're right, Ems. I should just be happy that I've found you, so we're celebrating. Think about it, babe. A bathroom. With a bath in it."

Those words were enough to make me abandon any idea of protest. After a week of crappy portable showers on site, I was ready to kill for a bath. And if my girlfriend wanted to treat me to a night in a four star hotel, then who was I to stop her. We fell into our double room giggling like naughty schoolgirls. I'd stayed in some fairly posh hotels when I was doing corporate stuff with Katie, but I always felt like somebody was going to find me and throw me back out with the riff raff. I was snogging Naomi in the lift when the doors had opened to reveal a man in a suit looking disapprovingly at us. I didn't give a shit, I was on top of the fucking world. I winked at him and closed the door again, leaving him stood there with his mouth hanging open, wondering why the hell there were two scruffy lesbian circus girls with sand in their shoes bringing down the tone of the establishment. I carried on snogging her whilst we were waiting for the bath to run. And then I snogged her some more as I pulled of her clothes and dragged her into the bath with me. Oh God it was glorious as the warm bubbly water wrapped itself around our bodies, and then Naomi wrapped herself around me from behind. For ages she just held me as we luxuriated in the delicious sensations of the tub. But then she started to wash me, soaping me up and then cleaning me with her hands. She washed the whole of my body, and then my hair. It was beautiful, tender and erotic, and I felt the love pouring off her in waves. If this was Naomi relaxing and going with the flow then bring it the fuck on, cause it was fucking breathtaking. I put myself completely in her hands. I wanted to show her I was hers, and I wasn't going to hurt her again. We got out of the bath and for a moment we enjoyed ourselves prancing about in the complimentary bathrobes. Of course mine was far to big for me and trailed along the floor making me look like some miniature loved up Jedi, which Naomi thought was adorable. But it wasn't long before we slipped naked together into the crisp clean sheets.

"I just want to hold you," she whispered, wrapping her long limbs around me.

"You can do whatever you like with me," I promised her. "You're my True Love."

"And you are mine."

For the first time since we had gotten together, we didn't have sex that night. I just lay there surrounded by her gorgeous embrace and let her love me without words, without fucking. Just with the sweet silent spiritual connection that linked her soul to mine. It was glorious. I fell into sleep knowing without a doubt that I was loved, and I would always be loved by this incredible woman.

Morning was a different story altogether. Breakfast of bloody champions.

**"Aw Naomi, you are a goner. Just go along with it." - copyright Slushhy. Genius.**


	28. 28 Passion Is A Language

**I don't own Skins, I'm just a circus girl with a broken arm who wanted to have some fun. **

**This one goes out to every writer on here regardless of your age, your country of origin or the level of your English language skills. For having the heart to want to create something, and the balls to expose yourselves to the world. Sure I have my favourites like anyone else, but we are all part of the tribe. As Naomi always discovers, love is better than cynicism. Feel the burn.**

**Hypes xx**

28. Passion Is A Language

Naomi

So this is the latest in the new summer line of Naomi Campbell shiny sunny positive emotions. Happiness. I am happy. I wake up every morning and I am happy. I stay happy throughout the day, and I go to sleep happy. How the fuck did that happen? Well, actually I know exactly how it happened. I found out the love of my life is actually, well….the love of my life. I confessed all. I told her everything, and she didn't go away. I did the one thing I had been terrified of the whole of my adult life. I laid my heart out on the line for her, and what did she do? She didn't smash it, destroy it or run away from me screaming like I was some kind of freak. She wrapped it up tenderly in her beautiful love, and promised me she would take care of it forever. She told me she loved me in so many unspoken ways I had no choice but to believe her. All the cynicism, all the doubt, and all those fucking defence mechanisms have been vaporised in the glorious heat of Emily's sun. The Ice Queen is dead, long live the Queen. The Queen of fucking Happiness.

We were late back for tent down the day after Crosby Beach. Of course we fucking were. We stayed in that hotel room until they were practically breaking the door down to chuck us out. Emily Fitch was mine. She really was mine, and I wanted to taste her in as many different ways as I could. Katie had been so, so right. There really was no going back. Only racing forward into a glorious new future with the most fucking amazing girl the world has ever known. Bring on the pastel dresses. I am finally ready for love. Of course there was no such delicate insight from Katie when we got back to site.

"What the fuck kind of time do you call this?" she spat angrily at us. "Me and Effy have had to pull all the fucking seating out on our own. Where have you been? And what the fuck have you been doing?"

One look at her smirking sister told Katie exactly what we had been doing.

"What the fuck?" she hissed. "You can't turn up two hours late just cause you two can't keep it in your pants."

"Actually, we can," I smiled smugly back at her. "It's in the rules."

"I thought you were anarchists," countered Katie. "I thought you didn't have any rules."

"We just have this one," I laughed.

"It's a well whizzer rule," agreed Pandora, for it had benefited her more than once. "You're only allowed to be late if you've been shagging."

"What?" spluttered Katie. "What kind of a lame ass rule is that? What dickbrain came up with that one?"

"It's a brilliant rule," argued Cook. Of course it was him who'd thought it up. And taken the most ruthless advantage of it.

"But now it's come back to bite you," smiled Effy, not looking the least bit bothered about the seating marathon.

"It's true Cookie," giggled Panda. "Naomi's going to be late even more than you now, cause her and Ems are always at it."

"We are not always at it," I protested.

"You totally are," Panda disagreed. "You're like bunnies on amphetamines."

"We're not. Guys?" I put it out to the group.

"Yeah, you are," shrugged Freddie.

"Right pair of little lezzer cyborgs," grinned Cook.

There were lots of general murmurings of agreement from the whole gang, and I looked helplessly at Emily, until JJ stepped into the rescue.

"You're not at it all the time," he said with certainty.

"Thank-you," I said giving everyone else a quick glimpse of the Campbell Death Glare.

"Based on the evidence, and doing a rough calculation in my head…."

Oh God no, please don't continue JJ.

"….I'd say you were at it roughly thirty-eight percent of the time. Which is still way ahead of the average amount of time spent engaged in such activities."

I had run out of sarky comebacks, and looked again to Emily for help.

"Just go along with it, babe," she smirked.

What else could I do? It didn't look like the little red sex tornado was going to be stopping anytime soon. Still, I reasoned, I was getting more action than Cook, and that _had_ to be cool.

Emily and I worked extra hard for the rest of the morning, buzzed up as we were and high on life and love. Everything just seemed to fit. They way we moved around each other, the way we lifted stuff together. All of a sudden we just seemed to have a new level of telepathy. It was seamless, as if we had been choreographed. She was perfect. We were perfect. I had always been so worried that emotional attachments would be to the detriment of my work, but even folding canvas and knocking stakes out was better with Emily Fitch. I looked around our gorgeous little gang and realised that whether it was romantic, or just friendly everyone had another half. Panda and Thommo were just love's young dream of course. JJ and Fred's were so different in character, and yet they just clicked together and all the hours they spent practising meant they totally understood each other. I don't know what the fuck was going on with Katie and Effy, but although Effy hardly ever spoke and Katie hardly ever shut up, the pair of them seemed to communicate on another level altogether.

Everyone except Cook. I watched my best mate working when I was taking a fag break, and I was suddenly overcome by a wave of sadness on his behalf. It had always been me and him against the world, the pair of us covering up our loneliness with the masks we showed the world. Him with his shagging and bragging, and me with my feigned disinterest in sex, a self deception that had now been so shamelessly exposed by Emily. I wanted him to have what I had, I wanted him to know the kind of happiness I was experiencing. Cook would always claim that he never wanted to be tied down, but having discovered the extent to which I had been lying to myself, I began to wonder just how deeply his deception ran. I felt a pang of guilt when I remembered just how much he had been into Emily. I knew he had wanted to shag her, but what if he had seen what I'd seen in her? What if he had hoped that she would be the one to bring him to the light? Maybe me and Ems should try and keep a bit more of a lid on it. It wasn't fair to rub it in his face.

.

.

That sterling resolution managed to last until lunchtime. Emily was making sandwiches and I was babbling away to her about something or other that I can't even remember now. Then Ems leant across the table to get the pepper grinder and my words dried up in my throat.

"What's up?" asked Emily, noticing my sudden mid-sentence silence.

I was too stunned to even attempt anything other than complete honesty.

"I can see down your top," I croaked.

Emily's eyes sparkled as she leaned even further across the table.

"See anything you like?" she said.

That was it. I put my hands under her shoulders and literally pulled her across the table until she landed on top of me on the bench seat, sending the half made sandwiches flying in the process.

"Wow," gasped Emily when she finally escaped from the searing kiss I'd just pulled her into. "I love it when you're dominant."

I don't know how I'd ever managed to convince myself I wasn't that into sex, cause every time I even got the slightest hint that Emily wanted me, I turned into an animal. There are some loves that are sweet and fluffy, there are some loves that are based on compatibility and a solid base of friendship, there are some loves that spring from intellect and good conversation. And yeah, whilst Emily and I might have all of those things and more to spare, we also have something else. Passion.

I'm not talking about purely physical desire. God knows I've had enough emotionless sex in my time, and it seems so fucking empty now compared to this. But passion is a language for us, a language we were fluent in long before we'd ever even touched each other. A language as sweet as music, a language as eloquent as poetry, a language as rich as the Sultan of Brunei and as filthy as a slapper in a chip shop on a Saturday night. A language through which we share the secret places in our hearts, and place our delicate naked flesh exposed in the fiery glare of each other's heat. If we were careless with each other this passion could kill us both, but now that we know, now that we have tasted it, we need it almost as much as we need to breath. We need to love, just as we need to fly. In the old days of the circus, before all of the health and safety methods we have today, there was once a family of high wire walkers who had suffered multiple tragedies in their act. When they asked one of the survivors why he carried on. His reply was 'life is on the wire, everything else is just waiting'. So ask me now why I can't keep my hands off this girl and I might give you the same answer. Life is with Emily Fitch, everything else is just waiting.

"Oh sweet fucking Jesus Christ," gasped Emily, clinging onto my neck as she came down from where I had taken her up against the kitchen shelves. "We kinda made a mess, didn't we?"

I looked round and surveyed the wreckage of the half made sandwiches, the broken crockery and other items that had tumbled from their resting places during the storm. So much for keeping a lid on it.

We tried to look as casual as possible when we re-emerged from the truck for the afternoon's work, but the first person we encountered was JJ, his face bearing the studious look he has when his mind is working overtime.

"What's up JJ?" I asked him.

I was thinking I might have to revise my estimate upwards to about forty percent," he said.

Busted.

.

.

We were headed off to Brighton after that, setting up the tent in a park just out of town. As soon as it was up Emily and I headed to the sea. We spent the evening mucking round on the pier and the beach pretending we were in Sugar Rush, going on rides, eating chips and drinking and smoking looking out onto the waves. We were more than a little shitfaced as we staggered back across the field towards home. As we got closer, I could tell that something wasn't right. Some of the herris fencing surrounding our site had been pulled apart, and what looked like a gang of six or seven drunk townie lads were throwing shit at the tent.

"Fucking pikey bastards," the guy who appeared to be the ringleader was shouting.

Oh great, fucking chav attack. As we reached the site the rest of our gang were emerging from their trucks in response to the disturbance. My heart started hammering in my chest. I wasn't really scared about the lads, eventually there were going to be enough of us to hopefully diffuse the situation. I was more scared that Cook was gonna lose it before I had the chance to stop him, and get himself in shit. I saw him charging out of his caravan, screaming obscenities at they boys and getting all ready to take all six of them on. Shit, this was not going to be good. But my worries were soon set to rest, as Cook was yanked from his self destructive trajectory by a force more powerful than any testosterone fuelled idiot. Katie Fucking Fitch.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she yelled marching right up to them. "Go on, explain to me what exactly you are trying to achieve here by disturbing my beauty sleep? Answers, comments, questions, anyone?"

I swear I actually saw them cowering in the face of five foot three of boiling Fitch fury.

"Didn't fucking think so," growled Katie as not one of them could come up with an answer for their behaviour. I looked to my side to share my admiration of her sister with Emily, but she was gone. The next thing I saw was my girl shoving the biggest lad in the group in the chest and pushing him backwards.

"Do we come round to your house and shout stupid shit at you?" she yelled at him.

"No we fucking don't," spat the other half of the Fitch Tag Team of Fear.

"Do we come round to your workplace and throw half empty junk food containers at it cause we're too bored and stupid to think of anything else to do with our time?" insisted Emily.

"No we fucking don't," echoed Katie.

"Look at yourselves, you're fucking pathetic," seethed Emily.

The ringleader of the group attempted to step forward, looking like he might try to protest, but Katie cut him down before he even had the chance.

"What? You're that much of a chipolata dicked coward you're gonna take out your inadequacies on a girl half your size?" she challenged him.

He had no answer to that.

"So why don't you just fuck off before you cause yourself any more embarrassment?" said Emily disdainfully.

The pair of them had completely seized all the power in the situation. Our fun sized dynamic duo were destroying the confidence of our attackers second by second. The rest of us just stood back and watched them in all their glory. Even Cook threw his hands up in the air, and grinned at me as he left the fight to a superior talent. Knowing they were beaten the boys started backing away, the weaker ones of the group starting to tug at their friends jumpers in an attempt to pull them away.

"There's only one way this is going to end," threatened Katie. "And that's with you growing up and getting a fucking life."

And that was that, the gang had no choice but to leave and avoid further humiliation at the hands of the Fabulous Fighting Fitches, or shame themselves by continuing a physical attack on our tiny twin front line. It was time for them to run. The Fitch sisters practically chased them out of the compound, but the leader of the pack couldn't resist trying to have the last word.

"Fuck you," he shouted as he ran back off into the darkness.

Emily was having none of it.

"Fuck you with an electric blue glow in the dark vibrating strap-on," she screamed at his receding form.

I turned from the extremely hot sight of my girlfriend kicking ass to be met by seven extremely quizzical glances from the rest of my tribe.

"Um, yeah…we don't actually…have one of those…" I muttered in embarrassment.

The glances I received in return seemed somewhat sceptical until I was saved from my distress as Emily pulled me into a forceful kiss. She was high on adrenaline and drunk on power and her kiss was rough and dominant. I felt my knees go weak as they had so many times before when she had taken control, and I was quite prepared to just give myself to her there and then, to let her take me and just do whatever the fuck she wanted with me as she had done so many times before. But what happened next took me completely by surprise.

Slowly and subtly she changed the emphasis of the kiss, drawing me in until I was the one in control, but this wasn't some silly sexual game of give and take. This was something far more significant. Just moments ago she had been the strongest I had ever seen her, her sun blazing with such a fire as the universe has never seen. I know how hard she had had to work to gain that power, and I know how fucking precious it was to her. I knew how long it had been her primary driving force, and in that moment she must have been delirious at the strength she had found and the woman she had become. But as she opened her mouth to let me further and further in, I realised in amazement what she was doing. She was giving her power to me. Sure, she had given herself to me physically more times than I can be bothered to count by now, and yes it had been fucking astounding, but this was something else. This was her saying 'Look at me, look at what I have become, and I trust you with all of it. Everything I have learnt, everything I have fought for, I am prepared to share with you.' It was intoxicating, for Emily Fitch in full flow was nothing short of magnificent, and here she was making me a gift of the most precious thing she owned.

"Fuck Ems," I murmured when I finally pulled away for breath.

"Yeah, fuck me, honey," she whispered softly in my ear. "I want to give you everything."

I looked around, expecting to have to drag her to the truck through the knowing smirks of our friends, but the compound was deserted, and we were alone. They had all fucked off home. Jesus, how long had we been kissing? She pulled my head round until my eyes met hers.

"Take me home, Naomi," she pleaded with me.

So they say that home is where the heart is, and I knew her heart was here with me. Even as I dragged her willingly back towards the truck, as I laid her down upon our bed and slowly stripped her naked, I knew that I would wake up in the morning a different person. I would be a better person. I would be happier, less alone. I would never be scared of love again. As she let me kiss her deeper that she ever had before, as she let me plunge my hungry fingers forcefully inside her hot, wet and staggeringly beautiful pussy, the silver-tongued language or our passion sang to me to me with the delicate words of a thousand love songs that the gift she was giving me now was a gift for me alone. Emily Fitch was giving me her power. The power of the fucking sun. At the very moment at which she came, she stopped screaming all the things she had been screaming up until then, simply drawing in a huge breath and locking our gazes in a silent adoration as our bodies smashed together with the violence of her orgasm. The language of our passion rolled around and through every cell in my body, roaring out its undeniable truth. Nobody else had ever seen the whole of Emily Fitch, and nobody else ever fucking would. It was way too fucking beautiful, and as she finally came down from her high, my emotions overwhelmed me. I collapsed onto her chest and cried like a baby. I would die for this woman, I would kill for this woman, I would clear up the debris of our uncontrollable lunch time lust for this woman. The Ice Queen is dead, long live the Warrior Queen of Love.

.

**Passion is our language. We have another tent down soon, so there might be a gap. Till next time…..**


	29. 29 Isadora

**A/N Thank you FinnFan for the lovely song and translation. I know it's been a while but there have been ridiculous amounts of fit girls coming to see the show and it can get distracting. Anyway, hopefully this is epic enough to make up for it. Little bit of time off now so I'm back in my flat, and I can't get used to how much space I have. Weird. Next stop Montreal….very exciting.**

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29. Isadora

Naomi

As soon as I woke up I reached out for my girl again. It's just something I do these days before I'm even fully conscious, and I was rewarded by a contented sigh as she wriggled her body backwards till it fit perfectly into mine. I wrapped myself around her, making myself into the outer spoon. We just lay like that for ages and it was the most beautiful feeling in the world. I savoured the sensation of her small red beating heart being held in my protective embrace. I always got the feeling that I wanted to care for her, to protect her, because in moments of stillness like this she seemed so physically small and fragile. But fragile was actually the last word you could use to describe Emily, cause in reality she is the strongest and bravest person I know, and after last night it was clear that she should be my bodyguard, not the other way round. God, last night, my thoughts drifted dreamily back to last night and the beautiful thing that had happened between us after the fight, and my eyes almost started to fill up again at the memory.

"Naomi, are my tits fucking magnetic or what?"

Emily's voice cut through my reverie, and I realised where my disobedient hand had wandered of it's own accord.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, starting to pull away, but she grabbed my wrist and clamped my hand back into place.

"Did I _say _you could move your hand?" she growled in her huskiest dominatrix voice. God, she was so sexy it hurt. I stayed there, gently caressing her nipple, waiting for her to tell me want she wanted next. I loved how there was no dominant or submissive partner in this relationship. It was a marriage of equals. She could make me do anything she wanted, but I knew I could do exactly the same to her. And this morning I wanted to pay her back for last night, I wanted to give her my sun. Unfortunately as I waited for her to decide my fate, my fucking phone started to ring. Automatically I started to reach out for it across Emily.

"Not so fast, Blondie," she admonished me. "Did I _say_ you could move your hand?"

Whoever was on the phone could wait. From her tone I could tell that Emily was going to fuck me senseless, and Oh God was I going to let her. But instead of flipping me over and fucking me through the bed, she started reaching for the phone herself, grabbing it from the shelf at the side of the bed and lazily scanning the caller ID.

"It's Anthea," she smiled, her voice full of warmth. "You better take it."

She dangled the phone in front of where my arm was still wrapped around her body, but I remained motionless. Finally she giggled, cottoning on.

"Ok, you can move your hand now," she smiled.

I took the phone from her and touched the screen to answer, and was rudely shaken from my dozy pre-sex languor by the voice on the other end of the line.

"Where the fuck is Effy?" screamed Anthea.

"She's here, what? What's the matter?" I mumbled, trying to focus. She was here, wasn't she? I suddenly doubted myself. But no, she had been there last night, taking photos of the Fitch Tag Team of Fear.

"I've been trying to call her for three days. Her phone is off," said Anthea angrily, as if it was my fault.

"She's fine," I tried to sooth her. She probably just lost her charger or something. We've been moving the tent."

"Go and find her," commanded Anthea. "I want to speak to her."

"OK," I promised. "I'll go get her and call you back."

"Right back," insisted Anthea. "I just need to know she's ok."

"I promise."

I shut the phone off and turned to Emily. There was no need to explain. With the volume that Anthea was yelling at me she was sure to have heard everything.

"Effy's phone is broken," said Emily. "She had a bit of a wobble and threw it off the top of the tent."

"What?" I said in alarm. "When did this happen?"

"The night we were at the hotel."

"Shit, is she ok?"

"She seems to be. Katie talked her down."

Shit, why didn't I know this? I was so wrapped up in Emily I had been neglecting my promise to make sure Effy was safe.

"You better go find her, babe." sighed Emily, and I could read the sadness in her eyes. Since we had become so much closer, it seemed that I could understand Emily without even talking to her sometimes. I knew what that sadness was about. I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking 'I wish I had a mother that loved me that much'. I felt my own heart lurch in a contraction as I felt her pain, and thanked the stars that I had Gina. I got out of bed and threw on some clothes. The sooner I found Effy, the sooner I could get back here and show Emily that someone loved her with all their heart.

"So how do you want me when you get back?" she smiled at me, covering up her sadness. "Making breakfast or naked?"

A sudden vision swam before my eyes, almost making me forget my mission.

"Um…both?" I said hopefully.

"What ever you desire, my love," she answered.

"I think that might have to involve you being the plate," I said, and turned and fled the truck before I got trapped there.

.

.

I wandered round the site looking for Effy's tent. She was bound to be asleep. It was still early and Effy was even less of a morning person than I was, though thanks to Emily I was a lot more cheerful of a morning these days. Thoughts of Emily swelled within my head, distracting me from the task in hand, until I realised I had made two whole circuits of the site, but Effy's tent was nowhere to be seen. What the fuck? My heart started beating faster, she hadn't run away on us, had she? Shit, Anthea was going to fucking kill me. I spotted Katie wandering back across the field with her water butt, and ran towards her in panic.

"What's up with you?" she said sarcastically, noticing my panic. "Have you not seen my sister for five minutes?"

"Effy," I said breathlessly. "I can't find Effy."

"She's at home," shrugged Katie.

"No she's not. I've just had Anthea chewing my ear off down the phone."

"Not London home, here home."

"I can't find her fucking tent," I said urgently.

Was I going blind or mad?

"Effy doesn't live in the tent any more," said Katie as if I should have known this all along.

"Since when?"

"Since a couple of days after you got back from Guernsey. I got back to the caravan one day to find her sitting on Emily's bed, clutching her rucksack and her camera bag. When I asked her what was going on, she just fixed me with one of those Effy glares, you know? Then she said, 'you know she's never coming out of that truck.' And I knew she was right, because she's always right. Ems and you are totally besotted and why should she have to sleep on the ground when there's a perfectly acceptable bed going free? So I let her move in and she's been there ever since. It's cool, she doesn't keep me awake fidgeting like Emily does, she just takes her medication and zonks right out."

I stared at Katie helplessly. Why the fuck didn't I know what the hell was going on around here any more? Katie wasn't too far wrong with her first sarky comment. I might not actually need to see Emily every five minutes, but I spend almost every fucking waking moment thinking about her.

"Anyway, Anthea's been calling her for three days and she's pretty much freaking out," I said, covering up my embarrassment for my tunnel vision.

"OK, well I'll get Effy to call her on my phone, she kinda lost hers."

"Yeah, I heard."

"She's fine," Katie reassured me. "It was just a wobble. I'll call Anthea myself and make sure Effy talks to her. Go back to your girlfriend, I'm sure she must be missing you by now."

Katie started wandering off back to her caravan.

"Oh yeah," she threw back over her shoulder. "Tell Emily that Mum and Dad are coming to the show tonight."

.

.

When I got back to the truck I was greeted by the heavenly vision of Emily completely in the buff, chopping up bananas for the fruit salad she was making for breakfast. I saw the big tub on yoghurt she had pulled out from the fridge, and my mind went into overdrive. Ok, so that whole getting a life and not obsessing over my girlfriend twenty four/seven? Reckon I'll have to start that tomorrow. I went up to my gorgeous breakfast bunny and wrapped myself around her from behind, my hands grazing across her naked buttocks, and reaching round to pull her hips in closer to my own. I buried my face into her sweet smelling hair.

"God, I'm so fucking lucky to have you," I told her.

"Yep, I reckon you are," she said, spinning round with the bowl of fruit in one hand and the yoghurt in the other. "Let's go make a mess in the bed."

I needed no further encouragement, pulled her back in towards me and we kissed and shuffled all the way back to the bed. Emily somehow managed to manoeuvre herself onto the duvet with out spilling any of her booty, and I just followed, crawling on top of her as I went, filled with anticipation for my oncoming feast, but there was something nagging me, something I had to get out of the way first. Oh yeah.

"Katie said to tell you that your Mum and Dad are coming to the show tonight," I said innocently, completely unaware of the whirlwind that would follow.

"You fucking what?" she snapped at me violently, throwing me off of her angrily. Before I even had the chance to be shocked at her aggression, she was up and out of the bed, throwing her clothes on and looking like she was about to murder someone. I was so worried that it was going to be me, that it took me a few seconds to realise that I had landed with my elbow in the yoghurt pot.

"Ems, what's wrong?" I asked her, but she ignored me and continued swearing under her breath. She pulled her boots on and headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I shouted after her. She gave me nothing, just stormed out of the door and slammed it behind her.

.

.

It was after lunch and there was still no sign of Emily. She had completely fucked off site and she wasn't answering her phone. Despite the fact that my head knew that this tantrum was absolutely nothing to do with me, my heart was breaking over the consequences. She was obviously upset, and I needed to be with her to comfort her, not be the one she was taking it out on. If Katie had had the balls to tell Emily herself, then I could have been the one she ran to, not the one ending up alone elbow deep in dairy product. When I confronted Katie about it she just shrugged.

"I've had this shit for the last nine years," she told me. "Ever since Emily came out her and Mum have been at loggerheads. You'd think they would have gotten over it by now but neither one of them will give a fucking inch. Emily's always been a kind of shoot the messenger girl when it comes to Mum, and I'm bored of it. So, I figured she was your problem now."

"Thanks," I said curtly. I was trying to recall all those defence mechanisms I'd spent years perfecting, such as sarcasm and pretending not to care, but all of them had deserted me. All I wanted was for Emily to come home, so I could tell her how Katie had made me her bitch, and beg her to forgive me. I had already made several circuits of the park looking for her, but eventually I gave up and just sat on the steps of my truck hugging my knees and jumping every time a new person walked into my peripheral vision. If my old self had seen me sat there looking like the pussy whipped little sad sack that I was, she would have laughed her head off. But the new me just hated the thought of Emily being sad so much, that all I could do was sit there and wait for the moment when I could help to make it better.

I was distracted from my little bubble of self-indulgent angst, when an unfamiliar car roared up to site and parked outside the fence. I have no idea what kind of car it was, if a vehicle is less than three and a half tons it's of no interest to me, but it was black and shiny and fancy and certainly didn't look like it belonged to anyone who had anything to do with us. I had to blink twice, when Anthea stepped out of the passenger side, and immediately lit up. But then everything fell into place when the driver of the vehicle emerged. Tony, the other demigod like Stonem child. It made sense I suppose, Brighton was the nearest gig we were doing to London, so everyone was getting their family visits in. Anthea yelled at Tony to fetch a bunch of stuff from the boot, and then yelled at me to open the fence and let them in.

"Fucking great to see you, Blondie," said Anthea squeezing the life out of me as her impossibly good-looking son looked on smirking at me. "So where's my baby girl?"

"Probably in the caravan. She's sharing with Katie now," I said innocently, without realising the consequences.

"Oh yeah, you finally nailed the redhead," grinned Tony. "Nice work."

"About bloody time," agreed Anthea, heading off towards the caravan.

Ok, so my love life was Stonem family entertainment. They were going to have a right laugh over today's events then.

"You coming then?" asked Tony over large cardboard box in his arms. "It'll be worth it to see Effy's face when she gets her present."

Present?

Effy allowed herself a genuine smile when she saw her mother and her brother.

"There you go special girl," said Tony dumping the box on the table and giving her a kiss. Effy looked around nervously at me and Katie, before opening the box. Inside was another box wrapped in gift paper.

"What's all this about, babes?" asked Katie curiously.

Effy looked back at her sheepishly. Excuse me? Effy looking sheepish? Effy usually only had two looks. 'I know every secret in the universe' or 'The voices in my head are trying to eat me.' She doesn't do sheepish, yet Katie had reduced her to it.

"It's my birthday," admitted Effy, as though it were a crime.

"What the fuck?" said Katie, but far less aggressively than her usual manner. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"She doesn't like to make a fuss, do you sweetheart?" said Anthea. "She doesn't think she's worth it, but we think she's worth it, don't we Tone?"

"I think she's worth it too," said Katie, shaking her head at her wayward friend.

"Open your present then, sis," said Tony.

He was right. It was worth it to see her face. Inside the box was a very expensive looking professional level video camera. Effy took it out and handled it with as much love and delicacy as if it were a new born baby. You could tell she was a woman in love.

"Mum got you the camera, I got you this," said Tony, handing over what looked like a cd. The wrapping revealed it to be something else entirely.

"Isadora," gasped Effy reverently, turning the disc over and over in her hands.

I knew what Isadora was, a special software that had been developed by a dance company that allowed beautiful real time manipulation of live motion capture images. Effy was going to have a field day with that.

"I don't deserve this," she said.

"Yes you do," said Katie.

I felt another sudden pang of sorrow watching the close-knit Stonems, and wondering what the hell the night was going to bring for Emily and Katie.

"What are we going to do about Ems?" I asked Katie, once Effy had dragged her family off to the tent to play with her new toy.

"She'll be back in time for the show," she assured me. "She's a professional."

"But then what?"

"Mum and Emily will be in the same tent," sighed Katie. "There will be blood. Don't be put off by her anger. Just make sure you're there to pick up the pieces. She's gonna need you."

.

.

Emily cut it fine. She had barely enough time to warm up and get into costume by the time she came storming back into the truck. I tried to give her a hug, but she shrugged me off and pushed me away from her.

"Just leave me the fuck alone will you," she spat.

"No," I said firmly, forcing back my desire to break down and cry.

"What?"

"No, I will not leave you the fuck alone. In an hour's time I am going into the air with you in a brutal yet carefully choreographed fight scene. If your head is not in the game you are going to fucking hurt me, or I am gonna make a mistake and hurt you. Is that what you want?"

"No, I…" she said softening slightly.

"So, you are going to tell me what your problem is with me, and we are going to sort it out now, before we fucking kill each other up there."

"What are those?" she said, suddenly spotting a bunch of flowers on the table.

"They're for you," I said.

Emily's rage melted into confusion.

"I'm a complete cunt to you, and _you_ buy _me_ flowers?" she said.

"My girlfriend was upset and I wanted to cheer her up," I shrugged. "I wouldn't normally buy flowers cause a lot of them are grown and shipped in from Africa, where the plantations steal all the water supply and leave the indigenous populations in drought. But these were organically cultivated in Holland under solar powered greenhouses."

Emily burst out laughing.

"That's so you," she giggled. "I fucking love you. I'm so sorry. I don't deserve someone like you."

"Yes you do," I countered. "Besides, you're my one true love, so you're kind of fucking stuck with me."

"I'm so sorry," she repeated, opening her arms to me.

I willingly threw myself into them.

"Look, I know tonight's going to be hard for you, but I'm on your side. Nobody fucks with the tribe, remember?"

"She can be such a total bitch to me."

"So do you want to cool it down a bit?"

"What?" said Emily, pulling away and looking at me in pure panic.

"The act, Ems. Not us," I assured her.

"Oh," she said, exhaling with relief. "You fucking scared me then for a minute."

"Should I go get some more organic solar flowers?"

Emily just kissed me, then she took my hand and held it over her heart.

"I love you Naomi, and this show is what we made together. It's who we are. I'm not going to change it for anyone, because I'm proud of who we are. I'm proud of our love and I'm proud of the art we make. We are going to go out there together and be the best we've ever been. I'm going to show the world how much you mean to me, because this is your vision and I believe in it."

I don't know if it was the actual flowers or just the Africa speech that did it, but Emily's rage had transformed itself into passion, and I was with her all the way.

"Blonde Bombshell to Red Fox, the primary objective of tonight's mission is…."

"Sex, blood, aggression and violence," said Emily, the devil smouldering in her eyes.

.

.

We hit new heights that night. We were fucking stratospheric. Of course it didn't exactly hurt that this was Brighton and there were loads of gay women in the audience who practically shrieked with delight every time they were hit by the rays of our twin suns. The rest of the cast picked up on the energy and everyone started playing off each other creating an atmosphere that was shimmering with intensity. Effy was on one, she was already beginning to master her new equipment and started threading bits of live capture into the projections. It looked fucking amazing. Halfway through I caught Cook's eye as he had been watching our beautiful team in action, and we couldn't help but grin smugly at each other at the events we had set in motion. Who would have thought that two dumb, fucked up sixteen year olds could have come good like we did? But we did, and there is no other feeling like it in the world. When you know you are doing a good show, and you can feel the excitement and wonder in the audience, the buzz in incredible. And then there was the final applause. Just like on a baking hot day and you can see the heat rising in waves from the scorching tarmac, that night I could almost see the heat flowing towards us from our crowd, but it was nothing compared to the heat from the small red supernova standing next to me holding my hand. With Emily I could conquer the universe, but could I stand up to Jenna Fitch?

The moment of truth had come. We had changed out of costume and cleaned the blood from our bodies. There was no putting it off any longer. We walked into the tent which held all of our crew, the Stonems and Rob and Jenna Fitch. Katie was talking to her parents, when they noticed me and Emily arriving.

"How're ya doing Emsy?" said her Dad, pulling her into a Fitch hug. "Crackin' show, sweetie. Very dramatic."

"Thanks Dad," smiled Emily.

Well, that wasn't so bad. Her Dad seemed cool enough. But then I glanced over to the woman standing behind him, and the look in her eyes sent shivers down my spine.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing?" she fumed at Emily.

No 'hello', no 'how are you?'. Just straight in with the attack. Christ this woman was hard.

"I'm doing a show, Mum," replied Emily with a cold calmness. "I'm a performer, remember?"

"Parading yourself around like some kind of freak," hissed Jenna. "It's shameful."

"It's called art," spat Emily condescendingly.

"Oh it is, is it?" countered Jenna. "Disgusting is what I call it."

"Bet you wouldn't think it was so fucking disgusting if I was up there with a boy."

It looked like Emily's rage had returned with a vengeance.

"Well that would be better than having to watch that peroxide deviant groping you in front of everybody."

Jenna's icy eyes bored into me with nothing short of hatred. I had meant to be backing Ems up, but I was stunned into silence by her mother's vehement bitterness. Somehow I had always believed she couldn't really be as bad as Ems made out, but every single second in her presence was proving me more and more wrong.

"I'm taking you out of here," she said, grabbing Emily by the wrist.

"The fuck you are," shouted Emily, shaking her off.

"You had a lovely act with Katie. Why do you want to mess that up by desporting yourself in this filth?"

"That act was killing me, Mum."

"Oh so working with your sister was killing you, eh? Don't her feelings count any more, that you have to drag her down with you?"

"She's not dragging me anywhere," protested Katie.

"You're bringing shame on this family. And your ruining Katie's life because of what? Because of her?" said Jenna, glaring at me. "Is this the slag your giving it up to these days?"

Emily exploded.

"Take it back," she screamed. "Don't you dare talk about her like that. You're not fit to even look at her. Take it back you fucking piece of shit!"

Everything seemed to go into slow motion. I watched my Emily's beautiful sun go into battle with Jenna's black hole of misery. I saw Jenna draw her hand back to hit Emily. I saw the stunned faces of everyone around me, too paralysed with shock to do anything about it. I felt my own brain mulling over the question of whether it was acceptable to smack my girlfriends mother round the head, my own paralysis preventing me from coming to any kind of conclusion. We were all fucking useless. Apart from one of us. A superhero in a cloud of smoke.

"I don't fucking think so," said Anthea, whisking Emily out of the path of Jenna's hand and wrapping her up protectively in her arms.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" said Jenna, her nostrils flaring like a bull in the ring.

"I'm the woman your daughter comes to cause her mother's a complete cock," said Anthea. "What are you going to do about it?"

Fucking hell. Was I actually about to witness two grown women enter into a full on bitch fight over my girlfriend? I had to stop this madness. Enter Naomi Campbell - voice of reason.

"Listen, we all love Emily, can't we find a way to work this all out together?"

"What would you know about love, you perverted little queer? I don't want you messing my daughter up any more than you already have done, so why don't you just….."

Jenna's voice suddenly faded away into silence, and her features fell into a frightened shock. She was no longer looking at me but staring over my shoulder towards the back of the tent. She looked horrified, all her venom dissipated in an instant. I turned to find out what it was that had stunned her into silence. It was huge images of her own face. Video loops of her face contorted with rage projected all over the set. She was a striking woman but in the moments Effy had captured she just looked ugly. Fuck me, that girl was frighteningly good. It must have been a terrible sight to be confronted with, the darkness of your own soul. Sound started playing through the PA, Jenna's own words cut up and looped on repeat. Shameful, disgusting, freak. Shameful, disgusting, freak.

Jenna looked around wildly for the source of her expose, her eyes finally settling on the beautiful, fragile looking girl, perched on the railing of the tech tower.

"That's the problem when you see too much," said Effy. "Some of the things you see are just too ugly to bear."

Jenna looked around at all the faces of the tribe looking back at her. We were no longer looking at her in shock or anger. Most of our faces reflected pity.

"And if you close your mind and don't see enough, you miss the most beautiful things right in front of you. Emily is full of love. She's beautiful. And so is Katie. But if you don't stop this you'll lose them both."

Effy's gaze could undo the best of us, but right then it completely destroyed Jenna, for in that moment she realised what the rest of us already knew. The rest of the world might call her crazy, but Effy was always right.

.

.

**Effy Stonem - modern day oracle. Fucking love that girl.**


	30. 30 Nine Years Of War

**A/N Thanks for all the great reviews. A lot of you have said you love me, which is very nice. Had my follow up Xray today, and the bone is growing back quite nicely which makes the doctors happy, but it's not solid yet, which means I am still effectively grounded. Was hoping to start training again in Montreal but it is not to be. Still we will be making a fabulous new version of the show in a building called the Tohu next month as part of an international circus festival, and I musn't get downhearted. So in the meantime, let's get Fitched.**

**I don't own skins, but I'd let it run away with the circus.**

**.**

30. Nine Years Of War

Emily

I had never seen my mother break down in the face of anything before. She is an incredibly forceful human being. I should fucking know, I've been fighting with her for nine years. I hate to admit it, but Katie and I are our mother's daughters. Dad may have been responsible for our physical strength, but our mental toughness was all Jenna. But now she had been hit by the beautiful bomb. The only person to unravel Jenna Fitch was a girl whose mental state seemed as fragile as her delicate long limbed body. I watched incredulously as the tears began to form in my mother's cold hard eyes, and saw something had never seen there before. Fear. She only lasted a few seconds longer under everyone's gaze before turning and fleeing the tent. Maybe I should have felt bad for her but I didn't. I felt fucking triumphant. I had beaten the bitch at last. Well, with a little help from my friend. God, I could have fucking kissed Effy right then, in fact I probably would have done, but Katie seemed to have that covered. She had leapt up the seating bank, wrapped Effy in her arms and was kissing her best friend's curls. I suddenly noticed how beautiful they looked together, and found myself secretly wishing Katie would forget she was into boys and allow herself to be seduced by the Oracle, cause I am pretty sure Effy's brain made no such distinctions between girls and boys. God, that would totally kill Jenna. If she found out that her precious Katie was fucking the girl that had exposed her.

I was no longer surprised by the dark places my mind could take me to. If I was cold and unfeeling towards my mother it was because she had made me this way. No child starts out hating it's parents, we need them too much, but God knows I hated her now. I peeled myself out of Anthea's protective embrace and kissed her on the cheek. At least somebody loved me enough to put themselves on the line for me. I looked over to my shell shocked girlfriend and a new wave of loathing gripped my heart. Jenna had crossed a line when she had attacked Naomi. My blood boiled when I remembered the vile and hurtful things she had said to the most beautiful soul it has ever been my good fortune to meet. I walked over to my lover and kissed her out of her trance.

"Are you OK?" she asked me quietly. "I had no idea. I'm sorry, Ems."

"I'm the one who should be sorry," I said. "I let that harpy come between us. I let her say those terrible things to you. I should have just smacked her one."

"She's your mother," said a shocked looking Naomi.

"Not any more," I hissed furiously. "I won't let her hurt you again."

"I think Effy hit her harder than the rest of us could put together."

"So who wants a fucking drink then?" said Anthea, waving round a bottle of champagne. "It is Effy's birthday after all."

Hell yeah. All hail the mighty Eff. Any girl who could get the better of Jenna Fitch was definitely worth celebrating. Just as Anthea popped the cork and we all started cheering, my Dad erupted breathlessly back into the tent. Of course he'd run after Mum when she had bolted, and now he looked confused by what appeared to be a tent full of people celebrating victory. I saw the hurt in his eyes, and felt my first pang of guilt. He had always tried to back me up against Jenna, but he was no match for her. Some guys just love a dominant woman, and I guess he couldn't help who he loved any more than I could. Fortunately there was a demi-goddess in the tent who had also caught his distress.

"It's my birthday," explained Effy.

"Oh, sorry," said Dad. "Happy Birthday, Love."

Bless you Rob Fitch. Sometimes I thought my Dad was the sweetest man alive. Somehow he always managed to see the good in people. Maybe that was how he managed to put up with Jenna.

"What's up Dad?" said Katie, abandoning the birthday girl for a moment.

"I can't find your mother anywhere," he replied. "I thought she would have just run back to the car. But she's nowhere to be seen."

"Good fucking riddance," I spat scornfully, grabbing the bottle of champagne from Anthea and downing several large slugs.

"Don't be like that, Emsy," he said sadly. "I'm worried about her. Come and help me find her, girls."

I snorted with disdain.

"You have got to be fucking joking. After the things she said to me? After the way she spoke to my girlfriend. She can go fuck herself."

"I'm sorry she was so nasty to your girlfriend, Emily. She doesn't mean to be like that. She just doesn't understand."

"She doesn't fucking try, Dad."

"Come on, Dad, leave Ems be," said Katie, tugging at his sleeve. "I'll help you look for her."

"I'll help too," said Effy.

"What the fuck for?" scoffed Anthea. "The woman is clearly a psycho."

Effy shot her mother such a look for breaking her own rules on using mental health as an insult, that Anthea visibly wilted. Another thing I never thought I'd see.

"Do you want me?" Effy asked Katie.

Katie met her eyes with a look that clearly showed the need was not all one way traffic between them, before nodding her head.

"Yeah, I do," she said quietly.

"I'll help too," a voice rang out beside me. What the fuck? It was Naomi.

"What?" I spluttered. "Why? Why would you want to help her?"

"Because your Dad is upset. Because Katie is upset. Because I love you and I want to be part of your life, and that means being part of your family. Because Jenna is your mother and even if I never manage to make her understand how much I care about you, I have to try. For you. I have to try for you."

I let out a pure full throated cry of primal frustration. How could Jenna hate this girl before she had even met her? How could she not even be prepared to discover Naomi when she was just so….good? Naomi was a good, good person, you would have to be an idiot not to see that. My mother was a fucking idiot. Moments ago I had been prepared to wash my hands of her forever. Now I wanted to show her just how fucking wrong she was.

"Ok," I said grudgingly, taking my lover's hand. "But if she hurts Naomi again, she's going down."

"Come on Mum, let's join the hunt," said Tony. "Could be fun."

"Funny, Tony," said Anthea. "Funny."

"Think about it," grinned Tony. "A homophobe at large on a Friday night in dirty gay Brighton. Just imagine the things she'll come across."

"Now that I would pay to see," laughed Anthea. "We're in."

And so it was that a strange collection of seekers made their way out into the night. The fucked up Fitch Family, a beautiful blonde hippy warrior, and the blue-eyed Stonem gods making their sport of us mere mortals yet again. We quickly exhausted a search of the park and surrounding streets to no avail.

"I don't suppose anyone's tried just phoning her?" said Katie.

"Switched off," replied Dad gloomily.

.

It was decided that we should split up and start checking the town. We'd already been searching for about an hour, when me and Emily found ourselves on the darker, more deserted end of the beach, to the left of the pier away from the hustle and bustle of the seafront clubs. Having scoured the stony beach and come across some very interesting sights that were definitely not Jenna, we crossed the road and started walking back towards town along the bottom of a high brick wall dotted with darkened alcoves. Whilst I wouldn't normally have any objection to wandering round Brighton with my beautiful girl, I could certainly think of better things to be doing with it than looking for my mother.

"She's a grown woman," I muttered angrily. "I don't understand why we can't just leave her to have her hissy fit in peace."

Naomi took both my hands and pulled our heads together.

"If you care about someone, you look for them. It's just what you do," she said.

"But I don't care about her," I replied.

"But your Dad does, and I know how he feels. When you disappeared this morning I spent ages looking for you. I knew you were angry, and I knew it wasn't my fault. I should have been pissed off with you, but all I could think about was if you were OK. I just couldn't settle till I had seen you again. If it was me, wouldn't you search for me?"

"Till the end of fucking time," I said, pulling her into a needy kiss. "But I love you. I don't love her."

"Yeah you do," said Naomi. "Otherwise you wouldn't hate her so much for not being who you want her to be."

"But that's what she does to me," I protested.

"Exactly," said Naomi.

The exhaustion of nine years of war suddenly hit me all at once and I crumpled into Naomi's arms. I was tired, so fucking tired of the battle for my mother's love. I had tried, my Dad and Katie and even James had tried to break down her impenetrable walls and get her to see me for who I was. But now I had found Naomi. Someone who saw exactly who I was, and whose love was unconditional and absolute. I suddenly realised what this meant for me, and I started to sob against my girlfriend's chest.

"What if this is it?," I asked her. "If she can't accept you…what if I fucking lose her forever?"

The overwhelming sense of loss spiralled over me like the undesired rush from a dodgy pill. I didn't want it, I tried to fight it, but the onslaught was too powerful and I felt myself losing control. I had spent so long pretending that I didn't care, that Jenna was just a cunt who didn't deserve a cool artistic and fabulously gay daughter like me, but it was all a lie. I still wanted her. I still wanted the mum who held my hand on my first day at school, who put plasters on my grazed knees and read to me when I couldn't sleep. The woman who put up with my mediocre piano playing, and who was proud of me when I won a fountain pen in a handwriting competition. Sure she was condescending and irritating at times, and yes, she could be cold sometimes but she was still my mummy, and the child in me wanted my mummy back again. Sure she had certainly seemed to favour Katie over me, but maybe that's because she had always known I would be different. Mother's always know, don't they, and maybe she had been frightened from the start. Maybe the fear that I had seen in her eyes tonight had always been there, hidden behind her anger. But I had chosen to live a life where I had to take on my fears, and I couldn't live a life held in a stranglehold by my mother's. Again my mind flipped back to Effy's words - be brave. In the air you had to be brave, or you could falter, you had to be confident going into moves or you could fall. I had had to be brave to win the woman I loved, and now it seemed I was going to have to be brave again. Maybe there were some battles you just couldn't win. Maybe I had to find the courage to let my mother go. It didn't mean I couldn't grieve though.

Naomi held me silently as I wept. She didn't intervene. She knew because of Gina she had no way of fully understanding what I was going through, so she didn't waste her breath on platitudes, and just waited as I travelled through my pain. Her quiet strength was enough for me to finally find the will to reach the other side, and as my sobs started to subside she started gently kissing my hair.

"We can keep trying," she said softly. "I'll be there to back you up."

"And if she can't find a way to love me?"

"Then you still have Katie, and your Dad. My Mum fucking adores you, and I think Anthea wants to adopt you for real. You have the tribe, you know you belong with us now. And you have me. I love you, Emily, and I want to take care of you. I'll stand by you through thick and thin. I'll do anything. Anything I can to make you happy. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're the most important person in my life. I'd climb Everest for you, I would swim through shark infested waters for you, I would crawl across burning deserts on my hands and knees for you. I'd wrestle crocodiles, fight an army of zombies, hell I'd even face Jenna Fitch for you. I love you, Ems. I love you so fucking much."

Suddenly I forgot to be afraid as my body shuddered with a familiar blood rush of desire. I dragged her back into one of the alcoves and pulled her hard against me. I grabbed her hair and pulled her lips against my open, wanting mouth. I wanted her to fuck the pain away. I needed her to show me everything she had just told me I needed just to feel her fucking inside me. I needed her to show me love. I heard her gasp at the intensity of my passion, but she would be true to her promise that she would do anything. She was going to give me what I wanted.

That was until a shadow fell across the light shining into the alcove from the street, and a voice cut between us like a razor.

"Did you mean it?" asked the voice.

My fucking mother. My fucking mother witnessed me about to get fucked up against a wall in a darkened backstreet near Brighton Beach. This was not going to end well. Naomi leapt away from me as if she had been belted by a ten thousand volt shock.

"Mrs Fitch, how good to see you," she stuttered, attempting innocence. "Everyone's been looking for you."

"Did you mean it?" repeated Jenna, her eyes fixed on Naomi. "Do you love her? All those things you said?"

"Every word," said Naomi, standing tall, suddenly realising that Jenna would respect strength, not capitulation. "Emily is the only girl I've ever loved. The only person I've ever loved. I will love her till the day I die. She is everything to me."

Jenna stepped back out of the shadows into the light and I could see that she had been crying.

"It's me, isn't it?" she said.

"What's you?" asked Naomi. I was still too paralysed to speak.

"You're friend was right. I'm the freak."

"Well, if you're a freak then you're in good company," said Naomi kindly.

Jenna gave her a half smile and then headed back across the road towards the beach. I watched her go, before turning back to Naomi.

"What are we going to do?" I asked helplessly. The emotional battering I had undergone today had left me brain dead.

"We're going to follow her," said Naomi.

I sat down on the beach between my girlfriend and my mother, and for what seemed like an age we simply kept a respectful silence, staring out into the night and listening to the constant rumble of the waves. Naomi's hand surrounded my own, and that small contact kept me sane whilst I waited. Waited for the moment of truth that could significantly change my life. Would I have a mother after tonight?

"You have to understand I grew up in a small town in Scotland," said Jenna eventually. "Such things weren't even spoken of, let alone….flaunted."

I felt a familiar urge rising within me to shout her down, but Naomi squeezed my hand, and when I turned towards her, her eyes told me to let my mother speak.

"When you started getting older and I started to suspect you might be…gay, I was horrified. I tried to deny it, told myself that you didn't have a boyfriend because you were shy, but that one day the right lad would turn up and you'd be able to live a normal life. But then you came in that day and announced over the dinner table that you were sleeping with that girl, and I told myself it was her, that she was a bad influence. That she was the reason you wanted to dye your hair, and play in that awful band and pretend to be a lesbian. I was sure that if I could get you away from her you would come to your senses and be my little Emsy again."

"I grew up, Mum," I told her. "I couldn't stay being little Emsy forever."

"I know. When you broke up with Miki I was so delighted. I thought that then you would come home and things would be Ok again. But then there was another girl, and another one after that and you never came back to me. And I just kept thinking if only you could try it with a boy you'd get over it."

"I've tried it with loads of boys and I never got over it," smiled Naomi.

Jenna's jaw dropped open, and confusion flashed across her face.

"Naomi's bisexual, Mum," I explained.

"I don't know," shrugged Naomi. "I think I'm just Emilysexual. She's the only one that really does it for me."

"But you've never…?" Jenna said, switching her gaze to me.

"Well there was this one time in Thailand," I said.

Jenna's eyes bugged out in surprise.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said.

"Because I knew you'd have us married off before you even knew his name, and it was nice but it was just a backpacker's fling. This…"

I raised mine and Naomi's interlocked hands to show her.

"_This_ is real love."

"I didn't understand it Emily. I didn't understand how you could be happy living that kind of lifestyle. I didn't want people to be judging you. I wanted you to be normal. I just wanted you to be happy."

"But I'm not normal, Mum. And I'm not just talking about being gay. I'm a circus girl, I live in a truck, I have a pierced tongue and bright red hair. I do things every day that most people would be terrified to try. I'm not normal, I am fucking extraordinary. And I am not you. The things that make you happy are not the things that make me happy. I'm happy here and now. Doing exactly what I'm doing and doing them with this girl. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my whole life. I don't care if people judge me, cause if they are too stupid to see how great I am then they're not worth listening to anyway. And you shouldn't let them rule your life either."

"I know," admitted Jenna. "I thought I was doing the right thing for you, but all I was doing was trying to protect myself. I hadn't realised that the world had changed around me. When your friend pulled that stunt on me I was devastated by what I saw. And then I looked around at all those faces looking at me like I was the freak, including your father and Katie, and I couldn't take it. I ran and ran down to the seafront where all those nightclubs were and I saw a different world. I saw women kissing women and men kissing men and men and women kissing and nobody gave a damn. And I realised it wasn't the world that you needed protecting from, you needed protecting from me."

She burst into tears again. I was at a loss as to what to do. I was still trying to process everything she had just said to me. I felt Naomi digging me in the ribs. 'Give her a hug', she mouthed silently at me, but I couldn't force myself to move. I realised that I hadn't hugged my mother for years. How the fuck was I supposed to start doing it now?

"Fuck," was all I could come up with.

"I'm sorry, Emily," Jenna spluttered through her tears. "Can you forgive me?"

If this was Hollywood, some drippy Coldplay track would come on right about now. There would be an emotional reconciliation scene and we'd get our happy ever after. But this was Friday night in Brighton and our soundtrack was seagulls, sirens, the distant bass thud of cheesy dance tracks, a weekend raver throwing up his kebab, and two chav girls fighting over a boy. I didn't have the miracle formula, I didn't have the perfect answer. All I had was honesty.

"I don't know," I said.


	31. 31 Blessed Rains

**A/N Hello. So there are a lot of stories out there and all of them have something to offer, depending on your tastes, but sometimes it's impossible to read them all. So I quite often go on recommendations when picking the stuff I want to read. And here are a couple of my new faves that if you're not already reading are definitely worth checking out.**

**Amour Fou by SelfIsAnActivity - not for the faint hearted, but a brave, visceral and engaging piece of work. Naomi and Emily are mixed martial arts fighters, and this story, whilst occasionally brutal, is also powerful and passionate and skilfully written.**

**By way of contrast What A Beautiful Mess by ImagineAlex is an exquisite piece whose intricate layered story is told mostly by way of conversation and reflection. It features a beautiful exploration of friendship and group bonding as well as a yet unrevealed mystery surrounded a very private Emily.**

**So back to mine. It took me ages to write this cause the consequences of having a fucked up arm for so long are playing themselves out on the rest of my body, pulling some vertebrae out of place in my spine, and I am in the grip of some foul and confusing headaches. Have been to my osteopath so hopefully it will clear up soon. This was originally going to be just the first bit of a longer chapter, but things took on a life of their own as usual. Hope it's good, but I'm finding it hard to focus, so I'm not sure.**

**This one carries the standard HyperFitched work/school/granny warning. Yes people - that means sex.**

31. Blessed Rains

Naomi

Emily and Jenna didn't say much after that. I called Rob and he came to pick up his wife, but Emily refused his offer of a ride back to the site. She and her mother said their goodbyes with an awkward embrace. I guess they both had a lot of thinking to do. I sent texts to the other hunters to tell them that the quarry had been found, before turning back to find Emily staring silently at the sea.

"How are you feeling?" I ventured.

"Numb," she replied. "I need to feel something. I need you to make me feel something."

She took my hand without even looking me in the eye and walked us back across the road, pulling me back into the darkened alcove. She wanted me to finish what we'd started. I was hesitant at first, but what else could I do? I had told her I would do anything, and that's what I would do. She backed herself into the wall and pulled me roughly against her body.

"You know what I need, don't you?" her husky voice rasped into the side of my neck.

I did. I knew exactly what she needed, but after this evening's events I also knew why. I knew why this sweet-natured, kind-hearted, cute-faced girl next door was also the filthiest woman alive. Ever since she had discovered her true nature, she had been told by someone that she loved that she was disgusting, abnormal, unworthy of being loved. That's why Emily craved power, it was her way of fighting back. If Jenna was going to castigate her for being a lesbian, then she was going to punish her by being the dirtiest most outrageous lesbian she could be. This was why she wanted me to fuck her in the street, instead of going home and making love in our comfortable bed. Emily's raging libido made her feel strong and powerful, her appetite was a weapon. Every dirty shag was an enormous neon sign to those who thought they had the right to judge her saying 'Fuck you, this is who I am, and you can't fucking stop me.' For her sex was beauty, sex was freedom, the fuel that powered the source of her sun. This divine fucking creature before me had every reason to want her love to be filthy, excessive, exciting and scandalous.

What was my excuse?

As soon as I felt her hands in my hair and her fevered tongue start to push its way into my mouth, any thoughts of hesitation evaporated in her nuclear heat. My hands soon found their way down the front of her combats, and she groaned right into my mouth the instant my fingers met her wetness. From that moment I was lost. The only thing I cared about was invading her hungry flesh. Fucking her until her gorgeous body smashed into mine in orgasmic explosion was the only reason I was alive. I gave her what she wanted and I gave it to her fast and rough. A fucking earthquake wouldn't have stopped me except…. shit, we would have been the cause of the earthquake. Wild animals couldn't have…fuck no, right now we were wilder than any beast. Well then a sodding meteorite hurtling towards…what? Fucking pathetic meteorite, what could you do to us? We were twin suns blazing our power out into the darkness. There wasn't force in the whole of the cosmos more beautiful and more dangerous than….Oh sweet shitting hell Jesus fucking H Christ! Emily, God…Emily!

She was coming. God, she just kept coming. I could feel her need amplifying with every thrust. I completely fucking lost it. I pushed into her with a force I was sure was enough to break a normal person, and my own screams were just as loud as hers. Her hands clawed at my back and her eyes rolled back into her head as I pinned her against the damp, dark wall, and poured every last atom of me into the very depths of her. Was this it? Was this the moment when we plummet from the sky and go hurtling towards our deaths? Finally the turbulence started to subside.

"I'm yours, Ems," I gasped, taking her head in my free hand. "I've always been fucking yours."

We clung to each other breathlessly as she came down. And for another age after that, my fingers still inside her. How do you come back to reality after an experience like that? How do you even find the words to talk to each other? Fortunately we were saved by the wonders of modern technology as Emily's message alert sounded in her pocket. I went to withdraw my hand but she clenched her walls around me, holding me in place, and it sent shudders through my entire frame.

"Not yet," she whispered against my chest. "I can't let you go just yet."

So our bodies stayed joined as she fished in her pocket to retrieve the text.

"It's from Katie," she said. "They've all gone to a club for Effy's birthday."

"Do you want to go and join them?" I asked.

"Hell yeah," she said, her face lighting up. "I fucking _love_ Effy Stonem."

Slowly, I withdrew my hand, eliciting more irresistible moans as I did so, and kissed her as I did her trousers back up for her.

"Shall we?" I said, offering her my arm for the walk to the club.

"You might have to give me a moment," she smiled back at me, still leaning against the wall. "I don't think I can fucking walk yet."

.

.

Of course Effy had instinctively found us the new cool place to be, filled with beautiful people and stylish décor, making it look more like one of those places where Sydney Bristow would have to go undercover in a fabulous wig and outfit, than the usual sleazy shithole. Never being one to miss out on a party, Cook had managed to undesignate himself from site security and come out to join us. At first we all cracked on together, me, Cook, the twins and the Stonems. It was great just to all chill out after the tension Jenna's visit had injected into the whole day. We danced and joked and drank, and it was wonderful to see Effy looking so genuinely happy. It seemed she had come a hell of a long way since the first time we met her, despite the occasional relapse. But there was a reason for that, and soon she and Katie slipped away to their special place, where even the sleazy guys that would normally get the horn from watching two girls dancing together somehow knew to leave them well enough alone. Emily disappeared for a while so I watched Tony and Cook teaming up to subject the local girls to their very different brands of charm. It was quite scary, and I was pleased that I would be considered off-limits to their efforts, though I was sure some poor girls would be succumbing before the night was out. Eventually I tired of watching the beautiful people and listening to their esoteric techno, and even more so of the BBC wildlife documentary that was Cook and Tony's wolves preying on the helpless baby deer in the night forest. There was still no sign of Emily so I took myself outside for a fag and some serious flashbacking.

I found myself on flashily done out smoking terrace with light sculptures and exotic plants, and my eyes fell immediately on its most spectacular inhabitant. Anthea Stonem, my designated empress of the world, lounging on a high tech swing seat, fag in one hand, cocktail in the other. She was surrounded by several gorgeous young men half her age all hanging on her every word as she span stories and told them filthy jokes. She was magnificent, and it looked like the wolves weren't going to be the only ones getting laid that night. Speaking of getting laid….

I'm not that kind of girl. I've never been the kind of girl that lets herself get fucked out the back of a nightclub. But all of a sudden she was there again, stealing the fag out of my mouth as usual and replacing it with a kiss. One of _those_ fucking kisses that make the rest of the world melt away into nothingness. The kisses only she can give that can take the whole of fucking space and time, and make it collapse in on itself until there is nothing left except that one small point of contact between her lips and mine. She just kept blinding me with those beautiful fucking kisses until I was so spun out I didn't know where I was any more. And then suddenly she had taken my hand and was leading me somewhere, God knows where, I didn't care, because she kept on dragging me back into another one of those fucking phenomenal kisses that left me completely at her mercy. I felt the touch of cold, hard concrete against my back. I felt her hips and her breasts pressing closer against my own. I felt her hands start their sensuous journeys across my body, sending moisture flooding down into my pants. But still she just kept kissing me on the mouth, its tender intimacy the very antithesis of the way she'd had me take her only an hour or so before. I knew what was coming next but I made no attempt to deflect it. I was so aroused from her endless divine kissing that I would gladly have let her do anything just as long as I could keep her mouth on mine. It was me that broke the connection as my head involuntarily snapped back to release a moan as she undid my belt and slipped her hand into my underwear.

"Oh," she said quietly, as her fingers made contact with the fluids that screamed out louder than any sound just exactly how much I wanted her. It seemed that even now we still had the ability to surprise each other with the depth of our mutual passion. Her mouth returned to its former sacred duties, kissing my senses into orbit as her hand slid slowly in and out of me. My hands were tangled in her hair as I tried to suppress the usual shrieks and expletives that accompanied the multi-layered firework display of sensation that overwhelmed me every time she penetrated me. I just never wanted the kissing to end. Emily instinctively understood what I needed and she kept her lips locked onto mine and her tongue dancing delicately between them, even as she increased the pace and force of her hips adding weight to the fingers inside me. I gave myself completely to the moment, Emily and I became the entire fabric of the cosmos. Even the sound of Cook's trademark sexual cry of 'grab my balls' that came drifting round the corner seemed like it was coming from another dimension. This was no nightclub back wall fuck, this was something else entirely. It has always been something else entirely, ever since I first shoved her up against the side of uncle Charlie's van and sent our bodies spinning on this endless quest for sexual and emotional satisfaction. My bloody perfect lover was bringing me closer and closer to release. It was beautiful, and I mean breathtakingly beautiful, she had so much fucking love. I was right on the fucking edge and still she kept kissing me even though I was finding it harder and harder to breathe. The first sign of any sexual aggression on her part was when she grabbed my hair and thrust her tongue deep inside my mouth as I came, forcing me to come so hard right into her I felt the pair of us were going to shatter from the pressure.

When she finally released me, I threw my head back against the wall again, taking in great lungfuls of air to feed the oxygen deprived blood that was pounding round my body. When I looked back down, my beautiful lover's eyes were staring back at me filled with wonder.

"How the fuck did you get to be so fucking amazing?" she said incredulously.

"I don't know, I just….I don't, I've never…I'm just not the kind of girl that does this kind of thing," I spluttered incoherently.

Emily's eyed dimmed immediately.

"Oh God, did I make you do something you didn't….oh shit Naoms, I'm sorry," she said in alarm. "I'm such a fucking bully."

So I'm not that kind of girl. At least I wasn't until I met my sex tornado. But then again, she was the first person I ever really wanted, and I've been waiting for her all my adult life, so maybe I always was that kind of girl. Just in hiding, waiting for my moment. A dormant seed in the desert waiting to be brought to life by the blessed rains of Emily Fitch.

"No, Ems, honey…" I assured her, taking her face in both my hands and kissing her again. "It was beautiful. I wanted you, I always want you. It's just I always seem to be doing things I've never done before with you. Like you've set me free, or something. It's wonderful, and a little scary. After a lifetime of repressing my emotions and my sexuality, it seems I have no inhibitions when it comes to you."

Emily's sparkle returned in an instant.

"Oh really?" she said, doing that annoyingly sexy one eyebrow thing of hers and storing up that information for future reference.

Oh God, what have I let myself in for now?

.

Emily was quite subdued for the rest of the stand in Brighton. I guessed she still had a lot to figure out about where she was going to take things with her mother. She spent a lot of time on her own, and a lot of time talking to Katie. I knew she would disappear off to the sea, but I forced myself to calm the urge to chase after her, and took the opportunity repair my neglect of Cook. Sometimes I wouldn't see her for the whole day until just before the show, and I always breathed an involuntary sigh of relief when I saw her face again. But every night she would come back to me. Back into my arms. Back into our bed where the covers would be hurled aside as we danced our frenzied naked dances in the torrid heat of sweaty summer nights.

**Next time…a little of what Naomi has let herself in for…..**

**Hypes xx**


	32. 32 Three Simple Stages

**A/N This appears the be some kind of marathon chapter, but once I got going I couldn't seem to stop, and I didn't want to split it up so there you go.**

**Some dedications are in order. Firstly to my osteopath, the amazing woman who has been keeping this battered body going for longer than I care to remember. The headaches have subsided and I can think again. Secondly to wristducky who wrote the most amazing review of my last chapter. You should go and read it if you haven't already, it's almost like having a Heather Hogan recap on the chapter. Fabulous. And lastly to FaithSky just because she's awesome, and I can. Hope your enjoying your holiday mate.**

**All that remains to say is that this chapter carries a double work/school/granny warning. Hypes is a dirty girl and must be punished.**

**.**

32. Three Simple Stages

Naomi

Originally, this weekend was a gap in the calendar, one I hadn't managed to fill. But then we'd met the empress of the world, and one thing's for sure, she certainly fucking felt like it right now. We were in Manchester, at an Arts Council Funded circus showcase, showing off the best of British talent to promoters from here and overseas. Well, at least what nice people in offices thought was the best. Most of the event was taking place in a building where nice clean artists were showing nice clean extracts from their nice clean little shows. And yes, I had applied for the original line up, but we had been turned down. They clearly didn't want oiks like me and Cook crashing the nice clean party. That was until some bright spark had picked up on the fact that they weren't quite meeting their diversity targets, and the whole thing was looking a little bit lopsided. So they decided to call in new hot property controversial director Anthea Stonem to organise a fringe programme to go alongside the main event and add a little kudos to their street cred. The first thing she did was hire our tent as the venue, and then programmed our show into the line up, along with all the companies and acts she thought were making the most interesting work.

We quickly became the new cool place to be, showing extracts from the more alternative shows in the day, performing the Circus Abandon show in the evening, and then hosting Cabaret Extreme late into the night with me and Thomas DJing at the after parties. We were the hit of the fucking festival, and by the Sunday night people were fighting to get tickets for the tent. I struggled to stop the smug grin from creeping over my face, when the people who had originally thought we weren't good enough for them came fawning around us telling us how marvellous we were. We were getting press, we were getting seen by loads of promoters, we were making loads of new contacts, and we were having a fucking good time. Because we had been sold as the dark and dirty underbelly, it was as if people actively wanted us to be bad. Hell, it's a tough job, but someone has to do it. Cook was absolutely revelling in his new found bad boy stardom, and taking ruthless advantage of it. Every time I saw him he had a different girl hanging off his arm. Panda seemed to have developed her own fan club of people who were in awe of her crazy stunts, and this morning she had shown me a card a guy had given her the night before from a company who provided stunt doubles for films saying she ought to think about training up for stunt work. The boys had found themselves a gang of geeky stoned juggler types all desperate to learn some of their tricks. Katie was constantly surrounded by fit guys paying her the kind of attention on which she thrived, but her gaze never wandered too far away from Effy, constantly checking that she was coping with the bedlam. To her credit Effy seemed to be coping just fine. Her photographs were getting noticed, and lots of other artists were asking her to shoot them. And her mother and her guardian angel were always close at hand, keeping her steady and allowing her to shine. And me and Ems? People just couldn't get enough of me and Ems.

And so we had reached the Sunday night. I was on our tech tower spinning tunes after a wicked performance of Breakdown, and a fantastically filthy Cabaret Extreme. The tent was still rammed with people, and I was fucking high on life. Effy was beside me VJing, cutting and mashing up crazy beautiful images that added even more to the amazing atmosphere. It was awesome, just fucking awesome, one of the best fucking nights of my life, and I shook my head in disbelief wondering when the hell did life suddenly get this fucking good? Of course I knew the answer. It started the moment Emily Fitch walked back into my life. Instinctively I looked round to see if I could find her. It wasn't the crazy panicky searching from before. No, this time I was perfectly happy, I just wanted to see her face. I just wanted to get my fix. Finally I spotted her in the middle of the crowd, ripping up the dance floor with Katie. God, they looked great, and I wasn't the only one to think so. I could see all the admiring glances they were getting from the people around them, and you could practically see excited little 'twin thing' thought bubbles coming out of the heads of some of the guys. If anybody could have seen my thought bubble I think it would have been golden. Yeah, golden would be a good colour to represent smug, with a text that read 'look all you like people, Emily is _mine_.'

I glanced across at Effy, and her eyes were tracking Katie, just as mine had been tracking Ems, but there was no thought bubble in evidence above her head. Effy's thoughts, as ever, remained a mystery.

I turned back towards Emily. Beautiful Emily. Even in the middle of the crowd she shone brighter than everyone around her. I wanted to reach out and touch her. I did the next best thing. As soon as she heard the opening chords of the next track, her head whipped round towards the tech tower, her mouth falling open in full throated laughter. Her eyes locked onto mine with a gaze full of mischief, and I felt as if my body was attached to Dr Frankenstein's life giving lightning machine and he'd just thrown the switch. Alive, she always makes me feel so fucking alive. No wonder I'm addicted. I heard Effy laughing beside me. Not smirking, not smiling a mystery smile, but actually full on laughing as she cottoned on, just seconds later. She began to flood the tent with images of the Fitch twins - on their silks, close ups of their gorgeous faces, and a beautiful video loop of the two of them just laughing together on repeat. Of course this grabbed Katie's attention, and she smiled warmly up at Effy as she joined our private joke. The whole crowd had started jumping up and down and banging their heads at the fat beats, heavy guitar and machine gun rap firing out at them from the speakers. But me and my girls were the radioactive core, spitting out energy through the whole of the tent. Effy and I started dancing suggestively up on the tower, screaming at each other as the chorus finally hit.

"If you're having girl problems I feel bad for you son. I got ninety-nine problems but a Fitch ain't one"

Fierce knowing looks shot between us and the girls on the floor as we danced and immersed ourselves in our little game. Heads were starting to turn and people started cheering on mine and Effy's antics on the tower. I watched Katie's eyes flashing like diamonds at the challenge, and she began to up the ante. She started dancing with Emily in a way that no two good clean living sisters should, igniting such flames of lust in the people around them that I feared the tent was going to catch fire. The whole place was going mental as the four of us all sang together the next time the chorus came around, exchanging white hot glances every time we mouthed our altered lyrics at each other. It was one hell of a moment, one those moments I knew I was going to remember for the rest of my life. And I hadn't even had any drugs. That's how good she was, that moments like these, the moments she inspired were just becoming part of life. Despite the fact I thought I was going to be incinerated by my own desires every time Emily caught my eye, I carried on working the crowd with Effy until the track finished and a huge roar erupted from the dancers. All I wanted to do right then was run to my red goddess and throw myself on her altar as a sacrifice, but Thomas wasn't due on for another for another twenty minutes and I had to console myself by filling the air with some of the dirtiest, fattest breaks I could find.

.

.

By the time my friend finally came to take over I was so hyped up that I had to go outside for two fags in a row, before I could even think about looking for Emily. Cook rocked up to cadge one off me, accompanied by a posh looking blonde girl whose hair was sporting the 'just been fucked to within an inch of my life' look. A look I was hoping that Emily would be modelling in the not too distant future. I was brought back from my fantasy by Cook's latest shag proffering her hand out limply towards me.

"Abigail Stock, Arts Council London, ya," she said, her ultra posh voice grinding in my ears. "You and your frands were well wicked. Loved the show like grimy, street, downlow, ya? Especially that fight, you were like totally hot safe bitches. You get me?"

"Right. Thanks," I said, almost crying with the effort it took not to laugh in her face.

"Let's go dance, babe," said Cook, realising I was teetering on the brink.

"Super, safe, ya," said Abigail excitedly. "Nice to meet you Naomi."

"You too," I managed to squeeze out with some illusion of sincerity.

Cook looked back over at me cheekily as they were walking away. I mouthed an incredulous 'what?' spreading my hands out for emphasis. Cook curved his hands over his chest and mouthed 'great tits' at me behind Abigail's back. I smiled and shook my head at his mucky grin, aiming for moral superiority, but Cook had put the word 'tits' into my head and there was only one place my mind went after that. It was time to go find my girl.

She was still in the middle of the dance floor, and it was no exaggeration to say she was surrounded by people who wanted to get into her pants. They clustered round her wearing hopeful smiles, and busting all their finest moves to try to get her attention. It was a situation that once would have had me shaking with rage and envy, but I wasn't about to steam in there all Shayna-like and start lording it about over my property. Things were different now. I lurked on the edge of the crowd, it was my natural habitat after all, and watched for a while as other people tried to seduce my girlfriend. Every so often someone would pluck up the courage to make a move, and Emily would smile and dance with them for a while, even allowing some of the more beautiful ones to touch her. I could tell from the dreamy look in her eye that she had taken something, and was just enjoying the moment, bathing herself in the sound and light, and heat and sweat and lust of the dance floor. But after a while she would always abandon her suitor and dance off into her own private world again, losing herself until the next would be lover found it in themselves to try. Before I had her, even the thought of someone else touching Emily nearly killed me. But now I knew, knew in my heart and in my very bones that she and I were meant to be together, and I knew she knew it too. I couldn't blame the others. She was stunningly beautiful, and unfeasibly sexy dancing there in her electric blue dress. Yes, _that_ electric blue dress. They would have to have been fools not to try.

But what they didn't know was that I had the power to dash their hopes in an instant. Emily had given me her sun. No matter how many people she danced with that night, she would only ever be coming home with me. She would always come back to me. It was time. I waved at Thomas to let him know that I was ready, and as he changed the track to a gorgeous dirty hip hop beat, I slowly moved closer towards her in the crowd. The beat was heavy and sexy, and a guy with blonde dreadlocks took it as his cue to move in on Ems. He slid in behind her and put his hands lightly on her hips, moving his body in tandem with hers. Emily let her head fall back against his chest and went with it, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the music. The guy looked like he'd died and gone to heaven. I did nothing except position myself directly where she would see me the moment she opened her eyes. I knew what was coming next. As per my instructions Thomas mixed in another track over the beat. The very same Amy Winehouse track that had been playing in the beer garden the very first time we had kissed. Emily's eyes shot open the moment she recognised the track, searching for the woman she loved. For me. Her fierce gaze locked onto me like a missile finding a heat signature, and stayed there as she moved her hips in a way that made it clear what she was thinking. Her would be boyfriend didn't notice, he had his eyes closed and his face buried in her hair, though he must have been getting at least a semi from the way she was moving. She continued to dance with him, but she was dancing only for me, pulling her hands up through her hair, gyrating with her arms up over her head, then slowly bringing her hands down and sliding them lazily across her body as she sang along to the chorus. It was a hell of a performance, but this time for an intended audience of only one. Her eyes never left mine as she moved and I drank in every last sensual motion. Emily had had enough of the distance. She raised her arms above her head again, crossing them at the wrists, pushing her tits forwards and making sure she had my attention before she mouthed two words across the space between us. Fuck. Me.

It took me a couple of moments to regain my composure after a whole Brazilian carnival of desire exploded between my thighs, but I took a deep breath and slowly danced my way towards her. She peeled herself away from dreadlock boy, and straight into a dirty kiss the devil himself would have been proud of. A kiss I could have lost myself in till the end of time.

"Don't I get a kiss?" a male voice sounded behind us, bringing me back to reality.

Emily turned round and just laughed, leaving him looking rather crushed. I felt sorry for him. I felt sorry for all of them, for anyone who wasn't me. Especially after what she did next. She backed herself up against my body, and pulled my arms around her until she was entirely wrapped up in me.

"I belong to her," she said, gazing up at me adoringly.

She looked back at her dancing partner, who graciously conceded defeat.

"She's a lucky girl," he said, backing away into the crowd.

Lucky doesn't even begin to cover it.

"Emily Fitch you are a bad, bad girl," I said sliding my hands across the exquisite curves in that ridiculously hot blue dress.

"Guilty," she growled at me, accentuating the huskiness in her voice in a way she knew would drive me crazy. "I used to just wanna fuck bad girls. Now I get to be one."

And I get to fuck one.

"Wanna get out of here?" I said.

.

.

Emily walked in front of me all the way back to the truck, just so I could watch her ass move in the dress. I was such a mess by the time we got back there I could hardly climb the steps. So many times we've fallen into this vehicle, almost ripping each other's clothes off before we've even got through the door. So many times we've smashed around its interior, our passion threatening to go critical and lay waste to the landscape for miles around us unless we can find our release. So many times we've been uncontrollable, but not tonight. Emily was waiting for me when I finally managed to make it through the door, and I don't know if it was that fucking dress, or all the moments that we'd shared throughout the night, but suddenly I was fucking sixteen again. I was paralysed. I couldn't fucking move. I was hypnotised, mesmerised, completely under her spell. All the confidence and control I had exhibited until now had vanished in an instant. Emily didn't help me out, she just stood there smiling at me with her slightly mashed up grin.

"What are you waiting for?" she said eventually.

"I don't know what to do," I said. I gave her the truth. It was all I had.

"What do you want to do?" she asked me in a voice that could melt me from the inside out.

"Whatever you want," I told her. "I'll do whatever you want."

There was that eyebrow again. One day I swear she was going to kill me with that fucking eyebrow.

"Close your eyes," she said.

Moments later I felt her slip something over my head.

"Ok," she said, and I opened my eyes and picked up the silver chain that hung round my neck. My fingers ran down its links until they discovered the object at the end. A tiny silver key. I felt like Jet Li had just kicked me in the chest and for a moment the paralysis seized my lungs, and I couldn't breathe as three small words smacked their way into my consciousness.

Emily. Naked. Handcuffed.

I looked up and there she was, dangling the handcuffs over one finger with raw invitation in her eyes. So that's the cure for paralysis. I grabbed her hand and tried to pull her towards the bed, frantically scanning the area for things I could attach her to, but Emily didn't move.

"Not in here," she said.

"Where?" I asked her urgently.

Her eyes merely rose to the ceiling.

"The roof?" I said doubtfully. "People will see us."

"No they won't," she assured me. "It's too high."

"They'll hear us."

"Babe, they can hear us when we're _in_ the truck. Besides, there's a great big wonky assed rave going on in the tent. No-one's going to notice."

"Ok," I finally conceded. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed. I didn't fucking care.

I grabbed a blanket and we climbed up the ladder on the back of the truck onto the roof. It been modified for carrying equipment so it was reinforced and there was a small guard rail around the edge. I felt a lump in my throat as I wondered how long Emily had been thinking about this, waiting until she thought I was ready. I wasn't sure I was ready now.

"I don't know what to do," I stuttered. "I've never…."

"I know," smiled Emily, leaning back on one elbow, and looking even more impossibly fantastic than ever. "I'll make it easy for you. Three simple stages. Strip me. Chain me. Fuck me."

Three simple steps. I think I can cope with that. I pulled her up to kneeling, and knelt behind her, holding her in my arms a moment and then breathing her in. Slowly I swept her hair aside and kissed her down the left hand side of her neck.

"Oh God," she hissed, arching her neck back to reveal more flesh for me. My hands cupped her breasts through the soft fabric of her dress, and I sank my teeth into the strong muscles than ran down from her neck to her shoulder, causing her whole body to shudder in my grasp. I pushed her hair aside again and laid a trail of kisses all the way down her spine from the nape of her neck to the top of her dress. Keeping my delicate pace, I undid the zipper and opened the fabric, following its parting with my mouth, focussing on one vertebrae at a time, undoing her bra as I went. I pushed the material from her shoulders and brought my hands back around her body to massage the now liberated flesh of her breasts, taking her nipples between my fingers and bringing them to life with my touch. I kept us there a while, listening to the sweet music of her moans, before turning her and pushing her back down onto the roof, pulling her dress away from her hips and down her legs. I was sad to see it go, but then again there was nothing more beautiful on this whole earth than Emily naked. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed.

Not yet. I was enjoying this far too much to rush, and she had wanted to put herself in my hands to see how I would play her. I watched her lying there, waiting for me, nothing but an exquisite pair of scarlet knickers between her and total exposure. She couldn't stop her body from undulating in anticipation, and it was a massive turn on to watch the evidence of her desire. And to feel it. I came back towards her on my hands and knees. Her pupils dilated even more at my sultry approach, as I slid my hand straight between her thighs and cupped her mound. I wanted to feel how wet she was through the fabric of her pants, and she didn't disappoint. Her hips forced an involuntary thrust against my grasp, adding to the soaking mess within my own underwear. Her whole body was almost shaking, begging me to fall upon her and take her right then, but I resisted. If Emily wanted a handcuff wielding dominatrix, then I was going to give her one. In three simple stages. I grabbed the front of her knickers with one hand and slowly pulled them from her body, being careful not to rip them, they were pretty gorgeous after all. Once again I just looked at her hungry body. I was dying to kiss every inch of her, but there was something I had to do first.

I pulled the handcuffs from where I had stuffed them in my pocket and unlocked them with the key that still hung around my neck. They were the real deal, and I found myself wondering if she'd had to fuck a policewoman to get them. Self-locking, but needing the key to open them again. Once I had chained her, she really would be all mine. Now that it came to it, I found myself quivering with how exciting I found the idea. I took one of her hands and closed the metal band around her wrist, even the sound of the ratchets clicking shut sent a thrill through my body. I took both her arms, passed the chains around the guard rail and secured her other wrist. Another word inserted itself into he mantra that had burned its way into my head at Glastonbury. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed. Mine.

"Oh fuck, Naomi. Kiss me," she gasped. And I wanted to, God I wanted to, but I was growing into my role and I was going to make her wait. She swore and rattled her restraints as I pulled away from her. I made her watch as I stripped for her, slowly, playing with every piece of clothing before I removed it, until I knelt in front of her, naked except for the chain that held the key to her bonds around my neck.

"Oh please babe, I need you," she begged me. "I need you to fuck me now."

"I know you do," I said, slipping my hand between my own thighs instead, and driving Emily berserk with lust. I think it was probably a good idea she was chained up right then, other wise animal Emily would have attacked me with a passion I'm not sure I would have survived.

"Fuck you're good at this," she whispered breathlessly, once she'd reasserted some small measure of control.

"And I'm about to get better," I said menacingly, dragging my hand through my folds again, making sure it was covered in my juices.

I crawled up her body, as she desperately tried to push herself towards me, but I hovered on all fours above her. I took my soaking wet hand and held it just out of reach of her lips, torturing her with the cum covered fingers she so desperately wanted in her mouth. Eventually I gave in and let her take them, and she licked and sucked hungrily as she tasted me. The sight of it was too much for me, and I grabbed her hair and forced a kiss upon her, thrusting my tongue hard into her mouth and sliding my thigh across her flooded clitoris as our breasts came together skin to skin. She cried out, I think it was my name, but it got lost in the bass beats still thumping out of the tent. The beast was out of the box. I wanted to take her in every way imaginable, but I hadn't spent the whole of the last month learning her body for nothing. After another searing penetrating mouth to mouth, I took my hands and lips and tongue all over that beautiful flesh. I had memorised every little thing I'd done that had driven her crazy, and I used every one of them now. Kissing the bend on the inside of her elbow. Sliding my thigh up and down her clit. Biting the tendons on her neck. I knew she loved to watch me sucking on her tits, so I kept full eye contact as I teased her hardened nipples with my tongue, and bit and sucked the pliant mounds of flesh. I kissed her on the knees, I don't know why but it drove her fucking crazy and that was good enough for me. I played with every inch of her, raking my fingers across her skin and toying with her scars, kissing this weeks bruises better and eventually ending up between her thighs. I pushed her legs apart and spread her folds wide open with my hands, stopping momentarily just to gaze in wonder at the beauty I had uncovered.

"Take me, Naomi," pleaded Emily, my attentions having driven her to the very brink of madness. "I'm yours. You have to take me."

I looked back up at her beautiful wanting face.

"I know," I said, pushing two fingers inside her and feeling my heart shatter into a thousand tiny stars as she screamed for me. I brought my tongue down to meet her clit and rolled it round and round in the delicious taste of her. I heard the sound of the handcuffs clanking against the metal rail as she writhed uncontrollably beneath me. I pushed myself in and out of her, feeling every delicate nuance in the texture of her cunt, and almost losing myself in the rhythm of her cries. I moved my face from between her thighs and started to kiss my way back up her body, until I met her willing mouth and she drank her own juices from my lips and tongue. I pulled back and just watched her beautiful naked body moving, pulling against the handcuffs and thrusting against my hand.

"No," she cried instinctively, as I pulled my fingers out of her and rested them against her thigh. I did it just to see the look in her eyes. Just to see how much she wanted me back.

"Don't worry," I said, holding my mouth just out of reach of her kisses. "It's all part of my evil scheme.

I entered her again, with just one finger this time. I knew her now. I knew every part of her, every little place that was guaranteed to give her pleasure. I stayed inside her, curving and uncurving my finger to directly massage her G-spot, and watched her eyes widen in shock.

"Oh Christ," she cried. "Don't stop that, Just don't stop doing that. Fuck."

I had no intention of stopping it. I could see what it was doing to her. Her breathing was coming hard and heavy, and every muscle in her body was tensed as she pushed against me. I could see her biceps bulging as she pulled against her restraints and it only made me work her even harder. Her eyes were open but she was blinking wildly, and when my eyes caught hers I was stunned by what I saw there. She was surprised. I let a huge grin spread across my face, I couldn't help it. I had fucking shocked the sex goddess. I pushed myself even harder and faster against the sensitive area that was driving her to beautiful distraction, and got my reward.

Emily wrapped her legs around me as she came, and her screaming orgasm shook the pair of us so hard, I made a mental note to check the truck for suspension damage. It felt so fucking good to be inside her as I felt her walls constrict around me, and we shuddered together with every aftershock.

"Fuck," she kept repeating. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

It took her a long time to breathe properly again, and I held her through all of it, and all the subsequent 'Fuck's that went along with it. Would she ever be able to construct a sentence again? Once I sensed that she had begun to retain her composure, I took the key from my neck and released one of her hands. She didn't give me the chance to undo the other, before she flung her arms around my neck and kissed me breathlessly. She let her head fall back down, and smiled but she still had no words for me. She rolled her head lazily to one side, and her eyes caught something and she started laughing.

That's when I smelt it. Cigarette smoke. Close to us, almost too close. Like some one was right next to us. I looked around in confusion, and there she was, lounging on the canvas roof of the tent just a few metres away on the same level as the roof of my truck. Fucking Effy Stonem. I looked around frantically, searching for something to cover up my nakedness, but I had nothing. Emily was still lying on the blanket, and seemed completely unperturbed.

"Effy, what the fuck?" I yelled at her. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Sunbathing," said Effy calmly.

"It's the middle of the fucking night you…" I caught myself just in time before I called her a moron.

"She means us, hun?" said Ems lazily, having finally recovered her power of speech. "The brightest fucking stars in ay universe."

"Were you fucking perving on us?" I asked Effy angrily.

"No," she replied as if the answer was obvious.

I looked at Emily helplessly. Why wasn't she more bothered about this?

"But she was watching us fuck," I said incredulously.

Emily reached up and cupped my face, the handcuffs still dangling from her wrist.

"You don't get it do you, babe?" she said. "Effy needs beauty in her life to counteract the darkness. And we are fucking beautiful. We're the most beautiful fucking thing for miles."

She turned and winked at Effy

"Hope you're going to give us some copies," she grinned.

I suddenly realised what she was on about. It must have been about half four in the morning, and the sun was coming up. Enough light for Effy and her goddamned fucking camera.

"No, that's not on," I exploded. "I know you're like fucking….different from the rest of us, but you've got to have some fucking boundaries."

"Actually I'm keeping them for blackmail purposes," said Effy. "You know, if you ever piss me off I can show Katie just exactly what you're doing to her little sister."

Emily and Effy both collapsed into laughter. Fuck it, I was outnumbered.

"Whatever," I thundered.

"Effy," said Emily, still drawling in her husky post-coital voice, setting off a throbbing between my legs. "Nuff sunbathing for one night yeah? You don't wanna get burned."

"Kay," shrugged Effy, getting the message, sliding down to the edge of the tent, hooking her legs round a loadstrap, and climbing down to the ground.

Emily rolled back towards me, trying to draw me into I kiss but I resisted her.

"You're really not bothered by that?" I asked her.

"I've just had the best sex of my life with the most beautiful woman I've ever slept with," she answered. "I'm not bothered by anything."

"Oh, well…OK," I added inarticulately as the flashbacks invaded my brain. Fuck, it had been glorious.

Emily picked up the key from where I'd dropped it on the blanket and undid her other wrist.

"Do you trust me?" she said.

"Of course I do," I replied without thinking.

"No, Naoms. Do you trust me?" she repeated, and I suddenly got what she meant.

"No!" I said in alarm. "I mean maybe…..um…yes?"

"Only if you want to, honey," said Emily gently.

I thought of backing out, but then I thought of how it felt when I was taking her, and the thought of her doing that to me was just too much temptation to bear.

"Ok," I said tentatively.

She chained me to the guard rail, and then gifted me with a gorgeous luscious kiss. I felt my arms yank slightly against the chains. Ok, I could get how this could feel good. It wasn't so different from her pinning my arms above my head, and she'd done that plenty of times before. But then she winked, and slid down my body. I rippled with anticipation for her touch, but she just kept on going and stood up. She put on the long vest top that I'd been wearing, which on her looked like a dress, and flipped her self over the side of the truck onto the ladder.

"What? Ems? What the fuck?" I shouted after her. Surely she wasn't going to leave me here like this?

"Don't worry, lover," she said, her head just peeking over the roof. "I'll be back."

"No, that's not fair," I called into the emptiness she left behind, before I realised there was nothing I could do about it. The key was round her neck. Fuck.

It was a good few minutes before her head reappeared and she climbed back onto the roof. I wanted to yell at her, but she looked so fucking good, and I was still fucking wet from before. My body rebelled and cried out for her louder than any complaint.

"Where d'you go?" I asked.

"Get supplies," she said, shrugging a rucksack off her back and producing strawberries and a pot of yoghurt.

"Jenna kind of interrupted my last attempt," she said. "So I thought I'd make it up to you."

Oh sweet fucking Jesus. She reached into the rucksack one last time and pulled out a bottle of champagne. I love Emily's attitude to champagne. None of this saving it for a special occasion nonsense. She'll buy it just because she feels like it. I remembered earlier in the tour wandering past the caravan to find her and Katie drinking out of proper champagne flutes one evening.

"What's the occasion," I'd asked.

"It's Tuesday. We're in Leicester. I think we deserve it," came the reply.

"What's the occasion," I asked her, knowing she would remember.

"I've got Naomi Campbell completely at my mercy," she smouldered. "I think that's a cause for celebration."

She popped the cork on the bottle and poured some of the effervescent liquid into a glass.

"This, my darling, is the only way to drink champagne," she said.

She poured some into my navel. I tensed as the cold from an escaping rivulet snaked its way across my belly, but Emily lapped it up and than drank from my belly button, running her tongue down into it as she finished. I praised every possible deity I thought might hear me for the fact that I had an inny and not an outy. She repeated this several times and each time the sensations spiralling through my body were unbelievable. She made her way up my body, pausing to drink from the hollow in my collar bone and licking up every last drop, causing me to fight against the cold metal encircling my wrists.

"Want some?" she asked me, holding up the glass.

All I could do was nod. She took a large swing and then came to kiss me, letting the still fizzing golden goodness fall from her mouth into mine. It felt fucking incredible, and after four champagne kisses I was intoxicated. Emily refilled the glass and dropped several strawberries into it. She dipped her finger into the yoghurt pot and then sucked it clean in front of me, setting off crazy tingling sensations in my cunt. She repeated the process, this time giving me her fingers to lick clean. I took them hungrily into my mouth, savouring the taste of mango and papaya, as well as running my tongue across the talented fingers that gave me so much pleasure. She dipped her fingers again, drawing shapes across my stomach and breasts, and then licking me clean with her tongue as I bucked against the restraints and the weight of her hips that were holding me down. I was so turned on I thought there was a real risk of some kind of explosive incident, but there was no way on this earth I wanted her to fucking stop. All I could think of was what a stupid over emotional fool I'd been at that gig. I should have just fucking seduced her and then we could have been doing this for years.

Emily took another drink of champagne, and then she took one on the strawberries that had been marinating in it and held it between her teeth. She brought her mouth towards mine and we bit down on the wine soaked fruit together, swirling the pulp together with our tongues and ending up in a strawberry flavoured kiss. We kissed for a while and then she fed me more champagne, before dipping her hand into the yoghurt pot again and smearing and handful across her own nipple. She brought her breast towards my mouth and I nearly broke my neck trying to get to her. She teased me, moving herself just out of my reach, and I fucking loved it, knowing that she would give in to me in the end, and when she did the sweet pleasure of having her delicious tit in my mouth rocketed through every fibre of my being. She sat up straddling me and picked up a big ripe strawberry, and crushed it in her hand, letting the juice fall between my breasts and run across my body. She fed me what was left of the pulp from her hand as she licked the juice from my chest. She crushed another one between her palms and wrote her name across my chest with the blood red juice. She crushed another one, this time letting the juice fall into my open mouth and then following its journey with her tongue. Every nerve ending in my body was firing sensations at my brain so fast I thought I was going into overload. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any more Emily's lips brushed against my ear.

"I'm going to take you now, my love," she whispered.

My torso spasmed violently at her words.

"Please," I said longingly. "Please Emily."

She spread me wide and held me down, gazing just as lovingly as I had at what she found. And then the tongue that had been all over me drowned itself in my wetness. She moaned as she tasted my clitoris, the vibrations of her voice sending even more pleasure rocketing through my expectant body. The metal of her tongue piercing slid across my nerve endings sending me perilously close to the edge in a matter of minutes.

"Oh fuck, Ems I'm gonna…" I squealed.

She tried to withdraw, to slow down to make it last for me, but I was too far gone. I needed her now.

"Just fucking do it, Ems," I screamed at her straining against my chains, and thrusting my hips back up towards her. She came back at me with her tongue, pushing her fingers inside me at the same time, , and I heard my own voice make unholy sounds as I span out of orbit. I wasn't seeing stars, I was witnessing the birth of entire new galaxies, as I came and then came again. Three fucking times.

"You liked that," she said, as she released me from the handcuffs, and handed me a glass of champagne. A cheer went up from the people still partying in the tent as the heavy bass thudded out from another beast of a tune.

What could I say? I fucking loved it.

.

**Right I'm off to finish the champagne and start packing for Canada. Bye for now xx**


	33. 33 Little Fluffy Clouds

**A/N A special hello to French Girl, who told me that she missed me. I'm not going to apologise, cause Montreal is fabulous and I have been having a fucking amazing time, rehearsing all day and dancing to brilliant live music every night. You can if you like (and Circs I know you will) blame the Canadians for being so delightful, and the Montreal Jazz festival for tempting me with it's irresistibly sexy tunes, but dancing outside in the hot summer nights surrounded by beautiful people is very good for the soul, and makes for a happy happy Hypes.**

**Peace, happiness and mucho love to all**

**I don't own skins, but I'd love to take it to Montreal….**

33. Little Fluffy Clouds

Emily

I woke up lying on my belly with the sun already beating down on my back where I'd kicked the flimsy covers away. My head felt kinda fuzzy and keeping my eyes open seemed to be somewhat of a mammoth task, but my soul was dancing with a carefree lazy joy. I felt good. Despite the potential hangover/comedown symptoms I was sure were on their way, I felt deliciously content as if all was right with the world. I couldn't be arsed to move just yet, so I let my barely conscious mind drift off, and it drifted to…oh God, last night. It had been so unbelievably hot, and the surface of my skin just shimmered at the thought of it. A smile flickered across my lips as I remembered how my straight-laced lover had seemed so nervous and unsure of herself at the start. She soon got over that though, bloody hell. She had had teased me like a professional and then fuck…I felt a spasm in the muscles in my cunt, and then the all too familiar gathering of moisture, at just the thought of how fucking good she feels inside me. I know she has this ridiculous picture in her head that I'm some kind of hyper-experienced High Priestess of sex, and that she somehow isn't good enough for me, but seriously, she's the one making me feel things I've never felt before. She is constantly surprising me, her sexuality is so naturally powerful and beautiful. She simply eclipses every lover I've ever had, and she doesn't even have to try. A hot flush surged through my body at the memory of her chained and writhing beneath me, her naked torso smeared with strawberry juice that I….

I sometimes wonder if I go to far with her. I love her so much, I would never want her to do something she didn't feel comfortable with. And yet she's so fucking hot I want to do everything with her, and in the filthiest way possible. A pang of guilt stabbed at my belly. There I was all smug and full of myself after a drug fuelled bondage sexathon, but what if she only went along with these things cause she's scared of losing me? What if she actually hates it? I felt the sudden urgent need to see her, to wrap her in my arms and just to hold her and tell her over and over again just how much she means to me.

Of course this would require movement, so I went to push my arms up under my body so I could raise my head and find my honey. The left arm moved just fine, but the right one met with some resistance. I felt the familiar bite of hard metal against my wrist. I managed to squirm around enough to face her. She was lying on her right hand side with her left arm coming down across her chest to meet mine, the metal band around her wrist mirroring my own. She had chained us together whilst I was sleeping, the key hung safely around her neck. Obviously didn't hate it that much then.

She started to stir, her slumber interrupted by my movement beside her. Almost as soon as her eyelids fluttered open, her sleepy face broke into the most wonderful smile I had ever seen. A smile that was just for me. Seems like I am considerably more effective than her trademark coffee and cigarette at making Naomi feel ok about the morning.

"Scared I was gonna do a runner?" I asked her.

She looked down at where our wrists were joined, and the smile grew even wider.

"Maybe I was worried that I was," she said softly.

"You still scared?" I said, my heart beating a little bit faster at the thought.

"I'm always scared," she admitted, but then laughed. "But every day that I'm with you, I'm a little less so."

The urge to hold her grew overwhelming, and I pulled her towards me, sliding my free arm under her neck so she lay partially on top of me and I could squeeze her close.

"God, I love you. I love you so much, Naoms. You're like my fucking angel," the words came gushing out of me.

"I love you too," she countered. "Ems, I just fucking adore you."

"Wow," came a surprised voice. "It's so easy for you."

I looked up and there she was, sat in the far corner of the roof, hugging her legs like she always did, trying to protect herself. It is a testament to the fact that we do not live a normal life, that my first thought in this situation was 'wow, we've actually managed to surprise Effy' rather than 'what the fuck are you doing here?' Naomi was not so reticent. She slid across my body so she could turn and confront our shiny new voyeuse, without injuring the pair of us.

"Fuck, Effy. What the shitting hell are you playing at?" she said.

"It's just so easy for you both to say it," replied Effy, as though this made perfect sense. "It's amazing. It's beautiful."

I looked into her hypnotic blue eyes, and in a rare moment of transparency, I was able to read what I saw there. She was genuinely stunned at our ability to express our emotions. But we worked so hard to get ourselves here, we're not going to flake out on each other now.

"It's not a superpower, Effy," I told her. "We're in love. You know it, I know it. Everybody fucking knows it. What's the point in trying to hide it."

"Don't change the fucking subject," interjected Naomi. "What the fuck are you doing up here? Don't you know it's kind of creepy, watching people sleep? Why are you suddenly stalking us? Where the fuck is Katie?"

Effy's eyes flicked involuntarily over towards the caravan.

"Katie's with a boy," she said quietly.

One look at her told me that she hadn't been home, that she hadn't been to sleep. I tried to work out what she was feeling, but as soon as she saw me her mask had come down faster than the security gates at the Louvre if I'd tried to steal the Mona Lisa. In the end I just asked her.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course," said Effy. "She needs it."

I knew this attempt at nonchalance wasn't telling the whole story.

"But what about you?" I said. "What do you need?"

Effy ran her hand through her hair and then rubbed her temple with her wrist, as if she was trying to rid herself of a headache.

"I just need it to be a bit quieter," she said.

My heart went out to her, and I managed to sit up despite the fact that I was still attached to Naomi. Effy was clearly suffering and her guardian angel was off shagging some random. I don't know exactly what it was that my sister did that calmed Effy's multitude of demons, but it was obvious that Effy needed it.

"Will I do?" I asked her, stretching my free arm out towards her. "I know I'm not her, but I look like her."

Effy just nodded, the relief showing in her eyes, and she came across and cuddled into me. I put my arm around her and held her, and that seemed to be enough. She didn't cry or shake or express any emotion, but from the way she clung to me I knew she wasn't letting go any time soon.

"Naoms, honey," I whispered to my lover.

"What?" she mouthed back at me.

I lifted up our hands, and looked pointedly at the handcuffs. Naomi got the hint, and reluctantly took the key from round her neck to release us. She let out a heavy sigh then rolled her eyes. But then she shook her head as if to let her negative emotion go. Looking me directly in the eye, she sat up and wrapped her long precious arms around both me and the girl she had just accused of being a stalker. Naomi Campbell doesn't do hugging, and yet here she was, comforting a lost soul I knew she had trouble understanding. And she was doing it with a smile on her face. Like I said, she is constantly surprising me.

.

.

.

"That one looks like a dragon," said Naomi. "There's its wings, and see, it's breathing fire."

"Oh yeah," I smiled following, her arm to see the cloud that she was pointing at. The three of us were lying on our backs on the roof, still naked, watching the clouds make their imaginary pictures above us. I thought Naomi was going to freak out when Effy started to take her clothes off 'because she didn't want to be the odd one out', but my girl just smiled and went along with it. She seems to be getting a whole lot better at just going with the flow.

"Oh look, over there," I said. "That one looks like a bunny."

"Bunny girl or fluffy bunny?" asked Naomi.

If Effy hadn't have been between us, I would have elbowed the sarky bitch in the ribs for assuming the worst of my dirty mind.

"_Fluffy_ bunny, darling," I told her. "Look just there, you can see the ears."

"Looks like a kangaroo to me," shrugged Naomi.

A few more moments passed as we watched the clouds lazily swirling and rearranging themselves above us. Again I felt that wash of sheer love and happiness drift across me, as I lay there in the sunshine with my lover and my friend. Could life get much better than this? I felt my face fix into this stupid shit eating grin. Oh bugger, maybe I was just still high.

"That one looks like a smiling girl," said Naomi enthusiastically.

I could see the cloud she was talking about.

"How do you know it's a girl?" I asked.

"Down there," grinned Naomi. "She's got boobs."

"Trust you," I laughed at her. "But yeah, I see them now."

"I like doing this with you two," said Effy. "You both have such lovely things in your heads.

"Right now I think we've both just got boobs in our heads," I giggled.

"Boobs are lovely," said Naomi, as if she'd just discovered a fundamental truth of the universe.

"Ok then," I asked Effy. "What do you see?"

"You don't want to know," she replied. "I'd rather just stick with your stuff."

"See," said Naomi smugly. "Boobs. Lovely."

I drifted off into a daydream of lovely boobs. So deep that I could only be drawn back to reality by the sound that invaded my brain right then. Even though it was quiet, and just on the fringe of my hearing it was a sound that automatically snapped me to attention. A sound I had heard a thousand times before. The sound of my sister yelling. Except this time it wasn't me she was chasing down.

"Effy!" yelled Katie, her voice growing louder as she wandered through site. "Effy! Effy!"

Not only was she getting louder, she was also sounding increasingly desperate.

"Up here," I shouted, knowing that her brain was just as tuned in to the sound of my voice as mine was to hers. A minute later Katie's head appeared over the roof of the truck, and I watched her eyes bug out as she spotted the three naked bodies before her.

"What the fuck is going on?" she said.

It wasn't the words that caught my attention, it was the tone. In all the years I've known her, I'd never heard Katie's voice sound quite like that. It was laced with guilt and trepidation and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"We were cloud watching," said Effy

"Naked?" said Katie, hesitantly.

There it was again, the fear and the jealously? Oh my God, she was actually thinking that we'd….fuck, well it wasn't as if I'd never done it before, but still.

"Well these two had been shagging," said Effy. "And I didn't want to be the one left out.

Katie shot me a look of such venom, I felt I had but minutes to live. I looked to Effy for support, but then I realised that nothing she ever says comes out by accident. There was a reason she had chosen to make her statement deliberately ambiguous. She wanted to provoke a reaction from Katie.

"No!" I mouthed at my horrified sister. "Effy just needed a place to be."

And then came another sound I thought I'd never ever hear. The sound of Katie Fitch apologising.

"I'm sorry ," she said. "It's been so long, and he was cute, and he paid me compliments. I just kinda fell for it. It's easy."

"It's ok," shrugged Effy. "Emily and Naomi helped."

"No it's not ok," said Katie sheepishly. "I shouldn't have abandoned you. Friends are more important than shags."

"You're here now," said Effy graciously.

"Come home, babes," pleaded Katie.

"Is he…?"

"No he's gone," Katie assured her.

"Ok," shrugged Effy, looking relieved.

I watched over the side of the truck as the two of them walked away, and Katie slipped her arm round Effy's waist. Effy responded by draping her long, slender arm around Katie's shoulders, and they disappeared around the corner of the tent. Was that really my sister who had thrown out some sexy boy, so she could look after her crazy best friend? Naomi started kissing her way up my back, her hand sliding down over the curve of my naked butt.

"Did your sister really think we'd fucked Effy?" she murmured into the gap between my shoulder blades.

"It looked that way," I admitted. "But you can't blame her. I do have…history. But I'm not that girl any more, Naoms. I've changed."

"So has Katie. She seems like a different person to the one that arrived with you."

Suddenly I was reminded of another member of my family, that had recently undergone a radical personality change. I wriggled out from beneath the attentions of my gorgeous girlfriend.

"I gotta go downstairs for a minute," I said.

"No," replied Naomi, squeezing herself tight around my body. "Why do you need to leave?"

I found myself uttering words I never thought I would say again.

"I need to phone my mother." I replied.

Naomi took my hand and led me back down into the truck. When I found my phone, she pulled me close again, wrapping her arms around me from behind and putting her head on my left shoulder. My stomach released an enormous flock of butterflies, I thought it was the cutest thing ever.

"I'm here for you, Ems," she whispered into my neck.

She started to pull away to give me some privacy, but I soon put a stop to that. Her sweet soft physical contact was both my haven and my inspiration, and couldn't bear to be parted from it as I faced my fiercest demon.

"Hello?" said Jenna hesitantly as she answered the phone. Christ, she didn't even have my number in her caller ID.

"It's Emily, Mum," I informed her, taking deep breaths to try to control my naturally rising anger, but I was in Naomi's arms and nothing could harm me there.

"Emily, how lovely," said Jenna. She actually sounded genuinely pleased to hear me. "How are you?"

I waffled on for a few minutes, telling her all about the convention, how well the show was doing and how Katie was. It almost felt like a natural conversation. It must have been the most words we had exchanged without anger in years. And then I felt Jenna steeling herself on the other end of the line, and automatically held my breath.

"How's um….? " she said.

"That girl?" I prompted her sarcastically.

Amazingly, she didn't rise to the bait.

"How's Naomi?"

I broke down at the invitation. It was such a simple question, but one I had been waiting all my adult life for her to ask, just to ask me how my fucking girlfriend was. I gushed unashamedly, heaping praise upon praise on the fabulous girl who had captured my heart. Naomi tightened her grip on me and started placing baby kisses on my neck, as I continued my hymn in her honour. Christ, she was going to have an ego the size of a planet by the time I'd finished with her.

"You really like her," said Jenna, once I'd eventually paused for breath.

"Mum, I love her," I insisted. "She's my Rob."

"Oh," said Jenna simply. I knew that would hit it home for her. I knew she loved my Dad like, fierce, and I wanted her to understand, and love me fierce again too.

"Well, when you're finished touring you'll have to bring her round to dinner to meet the family properly."

What? My mouth literally hung open in shock as I took in her words. She was really inviting Naoms to dinner? At the famous fucking six-seater table?

"Um thanks, yeah I'll ask her," I stuttered as my heart lurched.

It was going to be a long road travelled before I reached forgiveness, but at least now I knew I was willing to try. Mum and I said our goodbye's, and I tossed my phone aside and spun round in my lover's arms and held her tight. I wanted to hold her till the end of time, till the universe crumbled and there was nothing left except the unstoppable fire of our love.

"You _really_ like me," she whispered, smiling.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I really fucking do."


	34. 34 I Love It When You Prove Me Wrong

**A/N Ok, this time I will apologise. I didn't want to leave you this long, but you can blame our director for working us like crazy, getting this new version of the show together. Anyways, I finally managed to squeeze some writing time in. Thanks to everyone who has been writing lovely comments on the last updates, and to lala who asked me when the wedding would be, I'm afraid my girls are anarchists whose grand passion is way to bold and beautiful to be contained by church or state. So don't go out and buy that hat just yet love…**

**Anyways, they're at it again so work/school/granny warning is operational. And gold stars for anyone who spots the Buffy reference.**

**I don't own Skins but we could walk down Rue St Catherine hand in hand. **

**.**

34. I Love It When You Prove Me Wrong

Emily

"There, just there," said Naomi. "Can you feel it?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling," I admitted.

"It's just like this surge," she said with love in her voice. "And then everything just feels right. It's beautiful. Try again."

"I'm not sure I can cope with the pressure."

"I wouldn't let just anyone do this, you know," she said, stroking the back of my neck.

"I know," I replied.

"I trust you, Hun," she coaxed.

I bit my lip and did what she asked. I was nervous. I knew how much it meant to her, and I didn't want to fuck it up.

"Has anyone ever managed this to your satisfaction?" I asked her.

"Only Cook," she shrugged.

Oh great, Cook. Cook had wicked skills. How was I ever going to match up to him? But she wanted me to do it, so I had to try. I already knew I'd never be able to refuse her anything for the rest of my life.

"Don't rush babe," she said encouragingly. "Just ease yourself into it."

I took a deep breath and went softly, trying to feel the moment Naomi so desperately wanted me to find.

"There, babe. Just there," she said in breathy excitement.

This time I felt it. This time I felt the beautiful surge, and she was right. Everything just fell into place.

"Fuck. Yeah. I get it now," I purred victoriously.

Isn't it amazing?" she said, almost in ecstasy.

Well, amazing isn't exactly the first word that sprang to my mind, but what was amazing was how much she was getting off on it. Her hand slid down from my neck and across the bare flesh of my upper chest, and came dangerously close to slipping inside my bra.

"Naomi!" I hissed. I had to stop her before that happened.

"Sorry," she said, retracting her hand slightly. "It's just that you look so hot right now."

"Not a good time right now," I replied, my voice wavering as I spoke. It was taking all of my energy to focus on what I was doing and not drift off into some Naomi filled haze at her words. I wanted to, God I wanted to. I wanted to let her take over every sense and abandon myself to her completely, but that would have been a very very bad idea. For a nanosecond I nearly let myself go, I nearly forgot that I had seven tons of death machine in the grasp of my tiny hands and we were travelling at precisely sixty-two miles an hour.

After Manchester we had had a week's stand in Newcastle. Unfortunately the weather had broken, and the whole time it had been cold, and rainy and windy. British summer - normal service resumed. The shows had gone reasonably well, but the rain makes day to day living just that bit more difficult, dragging yourself out of your truck to do warm ups just that little bit harder, and staying in bed with your girlfriend instead of training just that little bit easier. Somewhere in all of this, Naomi managed to strain her back during the show and we ended up having to cut the doubles and the cloudswing for the last two nights. And God, does that girl get grumpy when she can't perform. She sulked through the entire takedown cause she was banned from lifting stuff and sent off to kitchen duty. It's not that she can't cook, it's just that she doesn't enjoy it like some of the rest of us do. The biggest surprise in that department was my sister who had somehow grown from never lifting a finger to cook at home to being one of our most skilled and enthusiastic chefs. Though I suspect her glamorous assistant might have had something to do with that. Hanging out with Effy seemed to be opening out whole new sides to Katie and I have to say I approve. Sadly, whilst the magnificent Ms. Stonem was bringing out the best in my Katie, injury was bringing out the worst in my Naomi.

The hissy fit she threw when she discovered that she wouldn't be able to drive her truck to the next gig would have put a five year old to shame.

"We're going to fucking Portsmouth," Cook yelled at her. "It's four hundred miles. There is no way I am letting you drive that far, it's not a fucking Ford Fiesta. You will fuck yourself, and you won't be able to do the show."

"Well you'll have to drive it then," she spat back at him.

"I've got to drive the sodding tent truck, you twat. Someone else will have to do it."

"No-one else can do it."

"I know it's your fucking pride and joy," said Cook angrily. "But you're going to have to get over yourself. I'm fed up of your fucking tantrums."

The two of them glared at each other like two stags about to bash antlers. It wasn't just the truck thing. There was something going on between the two of them, something that had been simmering for a while now. On the surface they would get on as usual, but every so often there would be an explosion of tension, and the pair of them were both so strong and so stubborn it was virtually impossible to get them to back down. I hated it. I knew how much they cared about each other. The only thing I could do was try to think of a solution.

"Um, I can drive," I suggested nervously.

"There you go," said Cook, throwing his arms up in the air. "Get your fucking wife to do it."

The other reason that I hated the animosity was that I would inevitably get caught in the cross-fire. Naomi shot Cook a look of pure contempt, but it wasn't contempt for him, it was contempt for the idea. In her rage she had forgotten to cover up the fact that she thought I wasn't up to it. It hurt, of course it hurt, any kind of rejection from Naomi would hurt. I'd get over it, but I wasn't going to stay there and be their fucking punch bag.

"Fuck you then," I shrugged, before turning and walking away. I could almost hear the cogs churning in that big peroxide addled brain of hers as she realised what she'd done. It wasn't long before I heard her footsteps chasing after me, and Cook's laughter following after her.

"Fucking pussy-whipped, or what?" he bellowed.

I carried on walking. I was heading to Katie and Effy's. I certainly didn't want to go back to the contentious vehicle in question.

"I'm sorry," she called out behind me, ignoring Cook's mocking laughter.

I turned round to face her. Storming off never seemed to work with Naomi. She always seemed to just come with me. I know she hated it when I was angry with her, even though she could be a right bad tempered bitch when the fancy took her.

"I get it," I sighed. "You don't think I'm good enough to drive your precious truck. Well fine. The rest of us can go to Portsmouth and do a show, and you can sit and stew here on your own until your back gets better."

"I do think you're good enough," she protested.

"Don't lie," I replied.

I had her, and she knew it. Given the mood she's been in these past few days, I was expecting some kind of sarky defensive comeback, but as I glared at her confrontationally, those eyes that tell me so many stories started to tell me a new one. I watched as the whole of that beautiful eloquent face softened until she was half smiling at me. She reached into her pocket and took out her truck keys, holding them out in front of her.

"Prove me wrong," she said.

Like I've mentioned, she is constantly surprising me.

.

.

So there we were, speeding down the A1 on a test drive before I actually had to drive it with the trailer on the back, and to be frank I was almost prepared to concede the point. It was a big old truck, made when men were men, and women did the knitting, and they certainly didn't come in Fitch size. I had to sit with a cushion behind my back, just so I could reach the pedals. And I was being made increasingly nervous by Naomi hovering just behind the driver's seat in the door she had made in the bulkhead between the cab and the living space. I knew she loved this truck to death and never let anyone drive it, and I was terrified that her lack of faith in me would prove to be justified. But instead of fussing and fretting like I had expected her to, she was there encouraging me. She gently coached me on how to find the classic engine's sweet spot at sixty-two miles an hour, when it started to cruise along with maximum efficiency and became a joy to handle. I had passed the test by being able to feel the magic moment, and now Naomi was showing a flagrant disregard for both the welfare of her beloved vehicle, and the safety of our lives and those around us by trying to flirt with me as I drove.

"You're going to get us both killed," I said.

She reluctantly withdrew her hands from my body and sat down gingerly in the passenger seat.

"Least I would die happy," she said.

.

.

We were halfway through the arduous drive down south, and the good old British weather had danced it's fickle dance again. Despite absolutely tipping it down during tent down yesterday, it was now baking hot. Let's just say that Naomi's charming vintage vehicle does not exactly have state of the art modern air con, and the sun was practically frying me through it's big glass window as I drove.

"Are you ok, hun," Naomi called through from the back of the truck, where I had banished her half an hour ago ostensibly so she could stretch her back out, but in reality because her constant nervous hovering was doing my head in. I know she didn't mean to but she just couldn't help herself. I don't know if the fact that I was her girlfriend was making it better or worse. Either way it was time for a break.

"I'm gonna pull in at the next services," I yelled back to her over the roar of the engine.

Naomi came back through and sat down beside me. I could feel her eyes boring into me as I guided the massive vehicle and Cook's Airstream along the motorway. Oh great, more fucking hovering. I let out a sigh of relief when I finally drove up the slip road of the services. We pulled in at truckers' parking and I practically ran into the back of the truck in an attempt to escape the heat. I was sorely disappointed. It was like walking into a sauna back there.

"Jesus, I am so fucking hot," I complained, throwing myself down onto the tiny two seater battered leather sofa opposite the sink.

"You got that right," purred Naomi, leaning in the doorway in a sultry fashion. I felt a familiar surge in the excited nerve endings between my thighs, and mentally scolded my body for its irrational reactions. I was far too hot and tired and hungry for any of that kind of malarkey.

"Make me a sandwich, babe," I asked her, wondering if I'd ever have the energy to move again. Cook was right. It ain't no Ford Fiesta.

"Sure thing, hun," she replied, making her way over to the fridge, but instead of extracting any lunch ingredients, she pulled out a plant spray full of water. She brought it over to me, and threw her leg over mine, straddling my lap on the sofa. She aimed and started pumping the handle, allowing the cool mist of water to fall down onto my overheating body. The sensation was divine. I closed my eyes and let her minister to me. It was such a simple gesture and yet so thoughtful, I was in danger of a serious attack of the fluffy love kittens. One of the most admirable things about Naomi is that once she has decided to take something on, she will commit to it one hundred percent. She had decided to be my girlfriend, and she was going to make damn sure she was the best girlfriend ever. Unfortunately my stomach decided to ruin the moment by letting out a large grumble. Driving the truck was surprisingly physical, and I needed to refuel.

"Fitch need food," I growled at her in my best caveman voice, to which her only response was to reach down and pull me into a full on kiss. My mouth opened in an involuntary groan, and Naomi took full advantage, sneaking her tongue inside me, and forcing my hips to push up towards her.

"And in what way was that supposed to resemble making me a sandwich?" I teased her, when she finally released me.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But watching you drive my truck just makes me really horny."

"So that's what all the hovering was about? I thought you were worried about my driving."

"Nah, just perving," she admitted freely. "I've been wanting to touch you for hours."

"So I am good enough for your precious baby blue?"

"You're a good driver Emily. I doubted you. I was wrong."

She raised both her hands and placed them firmly on my tits, before leaning down and rewarding me with another white hot kiss. The temperature in the truck seemed to suddenly go through the roof. It was all wrong. We were parked up surrounded by fat guys in artics in Leicester Forest East, a service station without a tree in sight. I was supposed to be resting before the rest of the journey, as we still had hours to go. And I'm sure the position she was in wasn't doing Naomi's back any good at all. But none of that mattered as the rational side of my brain was battered into submission by my rebellious body, and a seven nation army would not have stopped me from doing what I did next. She was so fucking beautiful straddling me in a little gold and black summer dress, her skin soaked in sweat from the blistering heat.

"I love it when you prove me wrong," she said, her hands still curved around my breasts. "I thought you couldn't drive the truck. You proved me wrong. I thought that true love was a pile of bollocks. You proved me wrong. And then I thought that love was something I should be afraid of and you proved me wrong again. Every time you prove me wrong my life changes for the better. Don't ever stop doing it, Ems. I want you to keep smashing my preconceptions, and then dancing on their graves. It's all part of the adventure, finding out that life's not always what I thought it was. Christ, I even thought I didn't like sex, and look how that turned out."

"Well, I think I'm going to have to prove you wrong again on that score," I said, running my hands up her thighs underneath her dress. She threw her head back and her hands squeezed tighter on my tits. An unholy lust seized my body and I abandoned any thoughts of foreplay. One hand grabbed her ass and pulled her closer, whilst the other shot straight towards her groin. When it reached it's destination, my eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"No underwear, Campbell?" I asked her. "Have you been planning this?"

Naomi shrugged.

"Told you you were making me horny," she said. "Did you really think I've been stretching my back out for the last half hour?"

The image of her masturbating over me in the back of the truck whilst I drove sent me into a frenzy and I slid three fingers up where hers had already been and pushed myself hard inside her.

"Fuck, Christ, Ems," she gasped, her fingers gripping even tighter around my boobs.

Suddenly everything was hot and wet, and I wanted it all. The searing humidity in the truck, the sweat on her beautiful skin, the fire raging in my pussy, and her irresistible wetness practically running down my hand between her thighs. I pulled her cleavage down towards me and licked the salt from her skin as I thrust myself in and out of her welcoming cunt. She wanted me. I could feel it as she pushed her hips up and down in opposition to my thrusts, her hands never leaving her favourite part of my body. I could hear it in the cries and moans that escaped her lips every time I moved against her. I could see it in her eyes as they widened at the sheer amount of pleasure I was giving her. And of course the evidence of her desire could only lead to one thing. I turned up the gas, I threw coals on the fire, I fucked her harder and harder until we were both burning in an inferno of our own making. Her hands were pushing me back down into the sofa as I started curving my fingers as she rode me, her screams becoming more insistent in response. She was pushing her clit down hard on my palm as she moved. I felt my bicep beginning to burn, but I would have gladly let my arm drop off before I was going to stop this. Heat and moisture and filth and Naomi Campbell, the most beautiful fucking vision my eyes had ever been blessed enough to see. The sweat was pouring down both of our bodies by the time I felt she was coming close to orgasm. Would we survive the final conflagration of her coming? Only one way to find out. I started pumping my hips up and down to meet hers, using my body to increase the pressure I was exerting inside her, and she squeezed me so hard she was almost over the border between pleasure and pain. It didn't matter. We both increased our already frantic pace until I swear we were just a blur. And then it hit us like a fucking flamethrower. Naomi screamed and went berserk. Her body clamped itself around me like a vice and as she started to come, I found myself in exactly the same state just from watching her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna …."

My attempt at a sentence disintegrated into something far more primal as a scorching pleasure took me in its teeth and shook me from side to side like a crocodile rolling its prey. I was helpless in its steely jaws and could do nothing but abandon myself to it until I finally heard Naomi stop screaming and felt her fall down towards me.

We were a crumpled sweaty mess of a pair of girls as we lay there in our incredulous afterglow. It was still insanely hot, and our bodies burned against each other, but I couldn't bear to let her go.

"God, it's so hot," Naomi murmured lazily into my chest, rubbing her cheek against my right nipple, her hand having failed to yet relinquish the other one.

"Hotter than ever," I replied. Leicester Forest East was never going to be the same again.

She lifted herself from my chest with some considerable effort, and dragged herself up to give me a tender kiss on the mouth. When she pulled away, she eyed me with a cheeky glint.

"Did I really just make you come just from fucking me?" she asked.

"Yeah, you did," I admitted. "And you were fucking amazing."

"Wow," she said to herself. "I didn't even know that that was possible."

"Neither did I"

But fuck it, girl. I love it when you prove me wrong.


	35. 35 Bad Blood

35. Bad Blood

Naomi.

So there isn't actually just one rule in Circus Abandon, there's two. Though the second one is much less popular and much less invoked, and it's the second one which Emily has been struggling with all day.

"No sex after osteopathy," I reminded her sternly, as she felt my ass for the twentieth time that day. The look she shot me back had me reaching for solid objects in order to remain upright. Maybe I should have reined in the sternness. I forgot how much she loves me dominatrix style.

"Ems, behave yourself," I warned her. "I didn't just fork out forty quid, just to have you undo it all with your spectacular fucking."

An evil grin slid across her face at the mention of the words 'spectacular fucking'. Oh bloody hell, help me somebody please. I am fast coming to realise that none of Katie's bragging about her sister was a lie. Emily does in fact have superpowers, the power to make grown women disintegrate into fiery molten animalistic slaves to lust just by looking at them. Breathe Naomi, breathe.

"Babe, please," I whispered.

"I'm not doing anything," she replied, holding both her hands up as evidence.

"You're looking at me," I complained.

"Forgive me for having eyes," she laughed.

God, her laugh is so sexy.

"I can't forgive you for having _those_ eyes," I told her.

I had to look out of the window. Two more seconds and I would have lost it. Think about something else, Campbell. Emily. Naked. Handcuffed. Oh Christ, not _that_!

"Emily, seriously, we can't," I gasped. "We have to think of the show."

That did it. Emily's professionalism (yes, we do still have a shred of that left) took over and she let me go. I felt like I had been released from an enchantment. It seems my girlfriend has a Darth Vader-like death grip she can attack me with without even touching me, except it's a lust grip. The Emily Fitch lust grip. You would think that after nearly two months of relentless shagging I would have gotten over it a bit. But no, I am as helpless now as I was in the days of the first Cabaret Extreme and the depths of my Shayna envy. Emily rules me, she just rules me.

"Can't we just go for a walk or something?" I said.

"Sure," she said, finally morphing from the sex tornado into my best friend. "If your back's up to it."

"Yeah, I'm supposed to stay active," I replied. "Just not…you know…_that_ active."

Emily smiled, but thankfully this time it was just a regular smile.

"Come on then, my little lust bunny," she said, extending her hand.

"I'm the lust bunny?" I questioned. "I was provoked. You're the lust bunny. No actually, you're more dangerous than that. If I'm the bunny then you're like…the lust fox or something. I'm in constant danger of being eaten."

She doesn't reply, she just…oh God, the eyebrow. Not the fucking eyebrow.

"I didn't mean it like that," I hissed. "Come on, let's go down to the sea. At least that way we can fling ourselves in the water if we need to cool off.

"Oh, like getting us both all wet is going to dampen the ardour," she smirked.

"You just can't help yourself can you?" I said helplessly. "You actually are a sex goddess aren't you? It's just part of your essential nature, it's who you are. Is it always like this with you?"

"Like what?"

"So fucking intense. I mean I've never experienced anything like this before, but you…I mean, all those other girls. Is this what you did to them?"

"Do you really want me to talk about my ex-girlfriends? I don't really know what to say."

"Just tell me the truth. I'm not being jealous, I just want to know you."

"You do know me, Naoms. You've always seen right through me. Yeah, I like sex, I always have done. I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of."

"Oh God, I'm not saying it is. I love you, honey, and I love you for who you are. Fuck knows, I'm reaping the benefits. Being with you is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I guess, I just want know how long this is going to last."

"I want it to last forever," she told me.

"Oh," I said softly. "I actually meant just the crazy honeymoon period, but shit, forever? Really? Oh."

"Yes, really. All those other girls? I won't lie to you Naomi. Yes, I shagged their bloody brains out, but when I looked into the future they were never there. There was always going to be some new adventure round the corner, and I never wanted to deny myself the opportunity to grasp it. But now, when I look into the future, all I see is you. All I want is you. So no, my love, it has never been like this. And if you ever leave me, it will never be like this again."

I stopped us walking, and pulled her into my arms.

"I'll never leave you," I whispered over and over again into her hair as I held tightly onto her perfect form. "I want us to be forever too."

We walked the rest of the way down to the seafront in silence, snuggling into each other with my arm wrapped round her shoulder, and hers slipped neatly around my waist. It was beautiful how we just fit together in so many ways. It felt so comfortable, and yet still so dangerous. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that one of the most significant moments of my life had just happened on an anonymous street in Portsmouth. She wanted us to be forever. I got to have Emily for the rest of my life. I knew just what she meant. I had never seen any of my lovers in my future until now, but now the idea of a future without Emily was simply unfathomable. When we finally reached the water, we still didn't break the silence. We just stood for ages staring out into the mucky grey sea, Emily leaning on a railing on the promenade, and me encircling her in my arms from behind. Yes Emily Fitch, you make me speechless, speechless with fucking joy.

I eventually had to move just to exercise my back. The motion jolted Emily out of her reverie.

"Come away with me," she said.

"What? Where?" I stuttered. The ends of the earth? Ok, then. Calm down Naomi, you've got a circus company to run.

"When was the last time you went on holiday?" she asked.

"Holiday?" I said blankly.

"It's not that difficult a concept," giggled Emily. "You know, sun, sand, sea….bikinis."

"Bikinis?" I blinked,.

"I was trying not to mention the S word," she shrugged.

"To be fair, I don't think I've ever been on a holiday like that," I admitted. "I've been travelling with my mum a couple of times and I went to New York and discovered the power of the pussy, but for the past few years all my time, money and energy has gone into setting up the circus."

"Then don't you think you've earned one?" smiled Emily. "This year has been amazing, you should celebrate. What do you say we just go to a travel agents right now and book ourselves a flight to somewhere hot for when the tour's finished?"

It was such a simple concept. Go on holiday. I wonder why I never thought of it before.

"I have told that I love you, right?" I asked her.

"Every time you look at me," she said, looking so beautiful she was practically shining.

"Let's do it," I said.

I started walking back into town hand in hand with my sweetheart and I was the happiest girl alive. You can forget your Parises, your Pragues and your Barcelonas, it is Portsmouth that has now become etched into my brain as one of the most romantic places on Earth. I swear I might actually have been floating on air, when I heard laughter coming from round the corner. I recognised it immediately. There was only one person who laughed like that, with such a full throated howl of abandon. My best mate, James Cook. I hurried round the corner, forgetting that we'd been inexplicably on each other's back lately. I was so full of love, my Cookie love was bubbling over too. I wanted to see him and bring him into my bubble of joy. First thing I noticed was that he had his hands all over some girl. She looked a bit like Effy, but without any of her class. That didn't surprise me, Cook always wanted to have his hands all over some girl. What did surprise me, was that they were outside a pub, and that Cook turned round and took a large gulp of a half empty pint.

"What the fuck Cook?" I yelled at him, my fluffy Cookie love evaporating in an instant.

"What?" he said aggressively, turning towards me.

"You're fucking drinking? We've got a show to do later, or have you forgotten?"

"Like you care about the show," he scoffed at me. "All you care about is how far you can shove your fingers up your bird."

There's been a few times over the years when I've had to smack Cook back into line, but I've never hit him as hard as I hit him just then. I've never hit anyone as hard as I hit him just then. He can bad-mouth me as much as he likes, but when he dragged Emily into it a blinding red mist descended and the next thing I knew Cook was sprawled on the ground beneath me.

"Wow Cookie," said the girl. It took one look in her eyes to see that she was already wasted. "You just got smacked down by a girl."

"Nah, mate," he replied bitterly. "I just got smacked down by Naomi Campbell, there's a difference."

"Naomi Campbell? Where?" said Cook's idiot shag, looking around as if she actually expected to see the supermodel lurking somewhere nearby.

"Fuck you, Blondie," said Cook, getting up and defiantly downing the rest of his pint before walking away, making obscene thrusting gestures with his pelvis. My first instinct was to turn to Emily.

"I'm so sorry, Ems," I said pulling her close. "You shouldn't have to witness that."

"What's up with him?" she said softly.

"He's being a cock," I replied.

"I think it's more than that," said Emily.

.

.

As soon as we got back on site, a worried looking Panda sidled up to me.

"I think you better go and check on Cook," she whispered conspiratorially, as if he had bionic ears. "I think he might be going a bit bonkers again. He smelt like he'd been drinking, and I think he might have been fighting. Looks like he's got a ripper of a black eye coming."

"Yeah," I replied. "It was me that gave it to him."

"Blimey," said Panda, a little stuck for words.

"Look," I sighed. "I'll have one of the guys check up on him. JJ can do it, make sure he's safe to do the show. Other than that I think that me and Cook need to give each other some breathing room."

I took a deep breath and headed for my truck. I couldn't believe he was doing this on a show night. Especially when I'd been struggling with my back. I fucking needed him there to support me, not acting like a useless cunt. If anyone gets hurt because of him, I swear I'm gonna cut his fucking dick off. It's been happening more and more lately, Cook reverting to the kind of state he was in when I found him, a selfish, irresponsible little asshole. He drives me fucking mad when he gets like this. Why the fuck would he want to throw every thing we've worked for down the toilet? It was probably for the best to leave him be before tonight's show, but after that me and him were due a serious talk. I noticed that Emily hadn't followed me home. Oh God, if he upsets her like that one more time, I'm going to cut his dick off and feed it to him for breakfast.

I was still angry all through warm ups and preset. I try to never carry any kind of resentment into the show, but I just couldn't shake this one off. I tried not to look at Cook cause I felt like I was perilously close to losing it. If it was just me I think I could have coped, but I just couldn't bear it when he talked like that about Emily. She had done nothing to deserve his wrath, and I was going to make damn sure he apologised to her. But once the show started I had to acknowledge him, he was supposed to be on my team. Shit, he was supposed to be on my team in life. Everyone was tense, I could feel them picking up on it. Most of us had seen Cook through some dark times, but Katie and Emily were more than a little spooked. That's the thing about Cook, he is such a commanding man, such an intense presence, that when things go to shit for him there is a high risk of collateral damage. We were halfway through our doubles routine when I caught him glowering at me, and I lost concentration for a second. It was only a second, but it was enough. Our choreography is so precise but I cocked it up and caught Emily smack in the face with my elbow. Of course I burst the blood capsule in her mouth, but I could tell that there was real blood mixed in with it. The audience gasped, but then applauded as they saw Emily carry on, obviously thinking they'd been fooled by some particularly authentic effect.

"Are you sure?" I whispered to her as we approached our finale.

"I'm fine, just do it," she replied.

I swung her out in the big back throwout, and then we went to go to our fast hands to feet catching sequence. The first rotation went just fine, but the second time, she wasn't there. She hadn't lifted her legs high enough and I couldn't reach them before she let go of our hands. I should have just let her drop onto the mat, but primal instinct had me making a wild grab for her legs. I managed to half catch one of them, but the uneven force of the weight made my back scream out in pain, and I couldn't hold on. Everything went slow motion as she spun out of my grasp. I dropped her. I dropped Emily.

I hung there like an idiot for the three seconds it took Emily to make sure she was ok, and then incorporate the fall into the story making out as if I'd thrown her down on purpose. She climbed the rope to get at me again, a little ball of fury and picked up the routine from the point where she kicks me unconscious. The slide down my body and the kiss were much more rushed than usual. It was obvious she was hurting, the question was how much? And exactly how much was the adrenalin masking? I couldn't even follow her off to make sure she was alright. I had to hang there pretending to be knocked out until Panda came to rescue me. I could feel myself shaking from rage and shock and adrenalin and fear, and it wasn't going to get any better until I knew if she was ok.

It was Katie who managed to deliver the news that Ems was fine, together with the assurance that she was a Fitch, and that Fitches were tough, but it wasn't until I saw Emily come back onstage that my heartbeat started to slow down again. When I put my hand on hers at the end of the show, I squeezed it tight, and she squeezed me back. I even fucking hugged her during the curtain call I was so relieved. The response from the audience was deafening, they always seem more appreciative if they've seen someone fall and get back up again. Bastards. I think it reminds them that what we do can actually be dangerous for real. I just couldn't wait to get offstage and hold her in my arms.

Backstage everyone was clucking over Ems, despite her assurances she was fine, but she waved them all away when she saw me coming.

"I'm so sorry, babe," she said. "I totally cocked up the trick."

"Ems, I'd just elbowed you in the face," I protested. "It's not your fucking fault. I dropped you, I'm the one who should be sorry."

"It's ok," she shrugged, running her hand down my arm. "It's not like it's the first time I've been dropped. Annabelle used to drop me all the time."

"But not me," I said insistently. "I don't drop you. I'm supposed to always be there for you."

My shame-faced apology was cut short by the sound of howling laughter behind me. Fucking Cook.

"Nice one, Blondie," he said mockingly. "Have a go at me for being unsafe and then you go and smack your missus in the face and drop her on her head. Isn't that what you call an abusive relationship.?"

I whirled round to face him. His black eye was now fully in evidence.

"No, this," I said, indicating the two of us. "This is what you call an abusive relationship, you fucking cock."

"Relax Naomikins, stop acting like she's some fragile little flower. She's a fucking Fighting Fitch for fuck's sake. You'd have to do a lot more than that to her to break her. Besides I've heard you two going at it, I know she fucking likes it rough. All that smacking her about was probably just foreplay."

For the second time that day, I took a swing at my best friend. This time he was more prepared and tried to dodge the punch, but I was too quick for him and caught him squarely on the jaw. His knees buckled but he just about managed to stay standing. I was boiling with fury. I was all set to launch myself at him again, when I felt Freddie's strong hands enclose my biceps and hold me back.

"Twice," Cook yelled at me. "You're going to do this to me twice. You're gonna beat me down twice because of her. Do you wanna kick me in the bollocks while you're at it?"

He opened his arms in invitation.

"Go on. Kick the fucking crap out of me. You might as well."

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" I screamed back at him.

"Fuck you, Campbell," he said. "Or shall I just get Emily to do it for me?"

If it wasn't for Freddie, I would have flattened the bastard.

"Fuck you, Cook," came my articulate response.

"Maybe we could get Emily to do that was well," he grinned lewdly, grabbing his crotch. "I've heard she's a bit of a goer."

I struggled so hard against Freddie's grasp that Thomas felt compelled to come and help him. Killer instinct, I knew what it meant now. If they ever let me go Cook was a dead man.

"You better get out of here, Cook," a voice growled to my right. "Cause if Naomi doesn't get you then I'm gonna rip your balls off with my bare hands."

Coming from Katie Fitch, it was a threat that Cook was compelled to take seriously. He shot me once last glance before taking off into the darkness. It was at least another minute before the boys felt secure enough to let me go. Everyone just stood around in stunned silence not knowing what to do. Apart from Effy, of course.

"Aren't you going to go after him?" she asked.

"Why the fuck should I go after him," I said. "If I go after him, I'll fucking kill him."

"But he needs you," she replied.

"He needs a kick in the head," I spat back at her.

Effy didn't rise to my bait. She just looked at me with those piercing blue eyes of hers, until I felt my blind rage dissipate until it was replaced by a burning need for answers. Like for example, how the fuck is it that I'm suddenly surrounded by girls with superpowers in their goddam eyes?

"Damn you, Effy Stonem. What do you know?" I asked her.

"I know that he's terrified, and he needs his best friend to help him through it."

Damn you, Effy Stonem. I know you only speak the truth. I looked at the shell shocked faces of my company, and I knew I had to sort this shit out. I turned on my heels and ran after Cook.

I found him curled up on the steps of a naval war memorial. He had his arms wrapped round himself, and he looked like he was shaking. At first I thought he was just shaking with rage, but as I got closer I realised he was crying. I've known Cook a long time, and I never ever seen him cry. I know that he does it when the world gets too much for him, I've caught him in the aftermath once or twice, but then the mask goes straight back on, and Cook the joker gets turned back on. But this was different, he couldn't hide behind his assumed persona anymore, he was completely out of control. When he saw me, he didn't react with the aggression I'd expected him to.

"I can't do it," he said, reaching out for me. "I just can't do it."

"Cook, what the hell is wrong?" I asked pulling him into my arms.

"I'm scared Naomi, I'm really fucking scared. I can't go back to they way it was. I just can't be that fucking person again, it'll be the death of me."

"Ok, now you're scaring me, James. What's this all about?"

"I need you, Blondie. I was nothing before you, and I'm nothing without you. If you leave me, I'll lose fucking everything. I can't do this shit without you. You're the fucking clever one. What am I?"

"I'm not going to leave you Cook. Why the fuck do you think I'm gonna leave you?"

"Emily," he said, his eyes still moist with tears. "None of the others mattered, it was always you and me against the world. But Emily, you love her. She means fucking everything to you. She's too strong for me, babes. If she asked you to you'd crawl on your hands and knees to China."

I opened my mouth to deny it, but it would have been a lie.

"I'm not going to take her away from you," my favourite voice in all the universe came drifting down from above us.

"I wouldn't do that," said Emily.

"But I heard you talking to Katie," said Cook. "you and Naomi are going away together."

"Yeah, for a couple of weeks in the Canaries," smiled Ems. "It's called a holiday. You should try it. Sure I'd love to go travelling with Naomi, at some point, but we've got a hell of a lot to sort out to build on the success of this year, and we can't just go scurrying about across the globe."

"We?" said Cook.

"In case you hadn't noticed, this summer has kind of changed my whole life," smiled Emily. "Circus Abandon is home for me now. It's where I wanna be. And that means both of you."

"But you're in love with her," said Cook.

"Stating the obvious, Cookie monster, but let's face it. What you've done together is fucking amazing, and you're both such fucking amazing people I was going to have to fuck at least one of you."

I watched as the spark lit up in Cook's eyes once more.

"Not too late to make it both of us," he grinned at her. "What do you reckon, Blondie? Smokin hot threesome?"

"I don't know how I'm going to tell, Katie," said Ems.

"I don't think Katie would mind," nudged Cook. "She told me about you and those two belly dancers."

"Tell Katie what?" I said, struggling to rid myself of the image of Emily being satisfied by two belly dancers.

"I'm not going to move back to London at the end of the tour."

Well that got my attention. Goodbye belly dancers.

"I belong here, with both of you. I wanna be part of the team, for real."

"So I get to keep my Naomikins?" said Cook.

"You might have to share her a little bit," replied Emily.

"Well, she's got a funding report to write so how about I have her brain, and you can have her body, how does that sound?" offered Cook.

"Sounds fair," giggled Emily.

I can't even be bothered to pretend to be riled at they way they were carving me up as though I was their property. I'm just too fucking happy that they've managed to work it out without any interference from me. I get to have my cake and eat it.

"I'm sorry about all those things I said earlier, Ems," Cook was saying. "I was totally out of order."

"It's ok," said Emily running her hand through his hair, before turning towards me with those filthy superpower eyes of hers. "I _do_ like it rough."

I felt myself being enveloped by the Emily Fitch lust grip. This time there would be no escape. But then I guess that's the handy thing about being an anarchist. You're kind of obliged to break the rules.


	36. 36 You Will Always Be Mine

**A/N Many thanks to all my lovely readers. I gave up a chunk of my last day off in fabulous Montreal to get this out for you, because it is nearly time for us to leave this wonderful city and go on our travels again. Flying back to the UK and driving the trucks up to Edinburgh to go back into the tent for Edinburgh festival. And that means jet lag and tent up and no updates for a while. Sorry folks.**

**I don't own skins but I'd invite it to the show.**

**So here's a little bit of Cookie love for you all. Dedicated to Ruin My Life, because her story is fabulous, and because I am in love with all things Quebecois right now. Next stop Bonnie Scotland.**

**Hypes xx**

36. You Will Always Be Mine

Naomi

Emotions, feelings. Bloody complicated little buggers. My first thought upon seeing the enormous pile of food that was heading in my direction was absolute delight. Cook had taken me and Emily out to breakfast by way of an apology for being an out and out fucksplash yesterday. To be fair I reckoned it was going to take a lot more than breakfast for him to make it up to Emily, but at least she seemed happy to let him make a start. We had found a cool café and I had ordered a full veggie breakfast with all the works. My eyes lit up at the sight of it, so much that I even temporarily forgot the constant aching in my back, but my happy thoughts were almost immediately swamped by all consuming guilt when I saw the items on the tray behind it. Two giant smoothies, both for Emily, my wonderful girlfriend reduced by my own hand to eating breakfast through a straw. I looked up at her face sporting a split lip and a swollen jaw. She still looked beautiful to me, but I couldn't look at her for too long, before the shame washed over me again. I attempted to divert my gaze but my eyes only landed on the striking purple and yellow hues of Cook's impressive black eye. At least the sleazy bastard deserved his, but still, the two people I loved most in the world were both sporting impressive facial injuries because of me. I should get my own reality tv series or something. Naomi Campbell - One Woman Smackdown. Perhaps I could even get the other one to make an occasional guest slot appearance - Celebrity Campbell Smackdown.

Cook's breakfast arrived soon after, the biggest, meatiest full on breakfast on the menu. I tried not to look at it. When I was younger and more intense, I tried converting Cook to vegetarianism - talk about a bloody lost cause.

"I need meat for my muscles," he had claimed, flexing the torso that had become even more impressive once he had started training acrobatics.

"Mine seem to be doing ok," I said flashing him back the not insubstantial biceps I was starting to gain from doing aerial.

"Ah but you're special," he grinned at me with that special Cookie smile that could pierce the strongest armour. "You've got special veggie muscles. You're stronger than the rest of us."

How could I argue with that? That's what makes him special. Cook has charm by the bucket load. One minute he can be the biggest plonker in the world, and the next he'll say something wonderful and you just find yourself forgiving him. In the eight years that I've known him, I've forgiven him over and over again. I knew I'd forgive him this time too, the things he had confessed had reminded me just how much we had needed each other, just how much we had fought for each other. He was right, it had always been me and him against the world. We had kept each other strong and we had kept each other sane, and in the depth of our friendship we had found something stronger than either of us had ever found in a partner.

But then came Emily. Sweet little Emily Fitch who had had enough of being the baby twin and fought her way to power. And now she had so much of it, she had maybe too much. Not only could she destroy my life, she had the power to destroy Cook's as well. No wonder he was scared of her. What if she couldn't forgive him for those terrible things he said? What if she asked me to choose? I know she said last night she had chosen both of us, but what other girl would insist that she take on some fucked up guy as part of the relationship? And what if Cook couldn't contain his jealousy and lashed out at her again?

I decided to focus on my scrambled egg for a moment. It was easier than dealing with the whirlwind of emotion. Food is simple. Food is good. Food is just something you need or else you'd die. But what would life be without Emily? What would life be without Cook? Oh why don't you grow a pair, Naomi? You're the glue that holds them together, it's up to you to help them sort it out. Or maybe not. When I looked up again the two of them were comparing wounds.

"Does it hurt?" Emily was asking, her fingers gently touching the skin round Cook's eye.

"Too fucking right it hurts," replied Cook. "Slugger Campbell's got a hell of a mean right hook."

"Tell me about it," said Emily, smiling and then wincing at the resulting pain.

"Least yours was an accident," said Cook. "Mine was delivered with venom."

"It was a crime of passion," smiled Emily, a little more gently this time. "She was defending my honour."

"Yeah, about that," muttered Cook, staring down into his plate. "I'm really sorry. You know I love you, Emilio man. I just got fucked up. Blondie's the only one who's ever been there for me. The only one who hasn't fucked me over and let me down. She's the only person I can rely on. The thought of losing her is just fucking unbearable, and yet at the same time I've never seen her so happy. It's just doing my head in."

"But it's brilliant that she's so strong and loyal and trustworthy," said Emily. "Those are the things that make her so fucking lovable. I meant what I said last night. You may be a dickhead sometimes, but you're her dickhead. That makes you my dickhead too."

"Ah, you sure know how to charm your way into a man's heart," laughed Cook.

"I charmed my way into your heart the first night I met you," asserted Emily.

Oh my God, did Cook just blush? That's something I never thought I'd see. What a pair of saps we were, both ensnared by the wonderful wiles of Emily Fitch. I suddenly felt another double whammy of emotion, at first incredibly thankful that I was the one who'd gotten lucky, and then smacked in the face by another wave of guilt. The girl that I had been flaunting on Cook's face was the very girl he himself had had a thing for. I tried to picture a world where things had been the other way around, and I'm not sure I would have coped. Looking at it that way, it was amazing Cook had been as restrained as he had.

"I'm so sorry mate," I said. "But she is just irresistible."

"Well make sure you don't cock it up, girl. Or I might just be waiting to pick up the pieces," smiled my so-called best friend.

"Um, have you forgotten the whole 'gay as a window' thing," I teased him.

"You never know," shrugged Cook. "Don't knock it till you've tried it, eh Ems?"

"I have tried it," stated Emily, cool as a winter's day in Moscow.

"What?" spluttered Cook, nearly choking on a piece of sausage.

"I slept with a guy in Thailand for a while," said Emily calmly." Norwegian backpacker called Ivar. He was sweet, and gorgeous."

"But you hated the sex, right?" said Cook.

"No, the sex was fine," replied Emily.

"So, you like a bit of cock?" asked a very confused looking Cook.

"No," said Emily sweetly. "I liked Ivar."

"Would you do it again?" probed Cook.

"I love girls, girls are amazing, girls light up my world, but theoretically I wouldn't rule anything out. In reality though, let's face it. Who needs cock when you've got Naomi Campbell?"

Cook laughed his howler monkey laugh, whilst Emily fixed me with her osteopath denying sex glare.

"She knows how to keep me satisfied."

With the honey sweet brown eyes of temptation locked onto mine things started to get a little moist.

"Fuck me, I never stood a chance, did I?" laughed Cook. "Crazy Effy was right, you two have got this super gravity thing going on between you."

"Effy's not crazy," said Ems.

"But she is always right," I said.

"So when did you two first know?" asked Cook.

Emily and I exchanged glances and decided to spill the beans. Cook listened open mouthed as we revealed our various stories of love at first sight.

"Fuck me, I guess you two really are written in the stars," he said. "How come you managed to not shag each other for so long? I'd have been straight in there."

"That's because you have no morals, Cook," laughed Emily.

"Oh don't come the fucking innocent with me, Emily Fitch," challenged Cook. "Give Katie a line of Charlie and she'll bang on for hours about your less than squeaky clean adventures, Missy"

"Naoms was different," replied Ems, without a shred of embarrassment. "I love her."

I kind of love the way that Ems is not the slightest bit ashamed of her sordid past. Somehow it makes it all the more special that she wants to change for me.

"So when did you get over your scruples," teased Cook.

"Glastonbury," admitted Ems.

"Really?" I asked her.

"God yeah," she sighed. "You had me so horny, if Shayna hadn't turned up that night, I'd have had you in a heartbeat."

"Who says I would have let you?" I attempted haughtiness. "I did still have a boyfriend at that point."

"That didn't seem to worry you in Guernsey," said Emily, increasing the huskiness in her voice in a way she knew would drive me crazy.

"Ok, so I would have let you," I relented. "I was hot for you at Glasto too. When I walked in on you in those ha…"

I ground to a halt as I realised Cook was hanging on my every word. His sewer dwelling brain could not be trusted with that kind of information.

"Jesus, Ems what were you wearing?" he was practically dribbling.

"Nothing," shrugged my shameless girlfriend. "Unless you count the handcuffs."

I could practically see the cogs in Cook's tiny brain computing the reality of what he had just heard, and watched the fires spontaneously combust in his eyes when he got it. Emily had an evil grin on her face, she actually got off on teasing him like this. Ok, so I wanted them to bond, but did it really have to be over the fact that they both liked to splash about in the gutter?

"Fuck's sake Blondie, why didn't you shag her?" said Cook.

"I was scared," I replied.

Emily and Cook exchanged 'aw bless' type glances, before Emily turned to me with a more sympathetic eye.

"I know sweetheart," she soothed. "I know the whole love thing was difficult for you."

"No, I was actually scared," I protested. "I was terrified Shayna was gonna come back and stab me for even looking at her woman like that. Or maybe arrange for a drive-by shooting or something."

"Shayna's not actually a gangster, you know," said Emily patiently.

"But I bet she knows some," I countered.

Emily's pointed silence was enough to let me know I wasn't too far from the truth.

"Might be best to avoid South London for a while," she finally admitted.

"That why you're going away," teased Cook. "Getting Naomikins away from your gun-toting ex."

"Shayna's not the devil you make her out to be," sighed Emily. "She was sweet to me."

"Ems, she paraded you around like a fucking show pony," countered Cook. This time Emily had no comeback. She looked at him, and threw her hands up as if finally admitting that Shayna was the devil after all. Oh Cookie boy, forgiven a thousand times, and officially reinstated as best friend in the world for that little number. The next words were out of my mouth before I'd even had the chance to deliberate the consequences.

"Come away with us, Cook."

Oh fuck, engage brain before speaking words, Campbell. I looked at Emily to see if she was mad with me.

"He's never been on holiday," I explained.

"Never?" said Emily incredulously. "Fuck it Cookie, you have to come."

"I wouldn't want to spoil the romantic getaway," he mumbled. He seemed to suddenly take an overwhelming interest in the fine details of his breakfast, but I knew him too well. I knew he was trying to hide how moved he felt by the offer. Fuck's sake Cook, why do you always have to hide who you really are? Fortunately Emily knew just how to get around him.

"Think about it, Cook," she said. "There's gonna be girls. Lots of girls away from home, getting drunk. Without their boyfriends. Without their inhibitions. All hot and horny and up for adventure."

Again I found myself wrenched in two directions by emotion. There was a part of me that hated the part of me that hated the fact that Emily was clearly speaking from experience. And though I had obviously benefited from all of that experience on more than one occasion, I struggled to push away the vision on Emily and Cook out on the pull together, laying waste to the female population of entire towns. Ok, Cook definitely had to come now, if only to keep all the hot and horny holiday girls away from my honey.

"Now that, sounds like a fucking plan," grinned Cook. "What you girls up to later? We could go book flights."

"I've got to go back to the osteopath," I said.

"Nooo!" wailed Emily dramatically, theatrically head-butting the table.

"What's up with her?" asked Cook.

"Rule number two," I laughed.

"Poor Emilio," smiled Cook, ruffling her hair. "Can't cope without shagging yer missus for a couple of days?"

"Pah!" I bragged. "She can't cope without me for a couple of hours. She's my little sex tornado."

"Why can't I find a girl like you?" moaned Cook, looking at Emily enviously.

"She does have a sister," I joked. "Isn't that what you told me before the tour, we could have one each?"

"James Cook," said Emily sternly

Cook put on his 'innocent' face. The one he used when he knew he'd been caught red-handed.

"At least I offered to share," he said sweetly. "Rumour has it when you meet sisters you keep them both for yourself. Are the names Lucy and Melanie Clarkson ringing any bells?"

"You are banned from ever giving my sister drugs again," huffed Emily, realising no innocent face was ever going to work for her. "And from sleeping with her."

"I think Katie's taken, don't you?" said Cook.

"What? Who?," I said, trying to remember if I had seen any tasty looking guys hanging round site. Cook and Emily just looked at me patiently, waiting for me to cotton on.

"What? Effy? Really? No," I blurted.

"If she is, she's not saying," said Emily. "Katie's one of the most heterosexual girls I know, but she did look pretty pissed off when she thought we'd had a threesome."

"When was this?" said Cook, perking up. Christ, Emily just didn't have any censorship control, and I didn't even need to look at Cook to know where his 24 hour porno flick of a brain was taking him now.

"I do know that she loves her," said Emily.

"Well that's OK," laughed Cook lasciviously. "Effy can have her love, and I'll just have her body."

"Oh James," sighed Emily. "There are enough real wankers in the world. Why do you feel the need to pretend to be one? Why can't you just be you?"

Cook's dirty grin fell from his face. He looked at Emily speechlessly.

"Self-defence," I said softly. "That's why we always fit together so well, me and him. Cook and Naomi waving our stupid little fists at the world, making out we were all mean and hard and sarky and cynical. When all the time we were like scared little puppies, terrified of the one thing we could never get away from, our own fucking hearts. Our own emotions, our own vulnerabilities. Always wearing the mask so no-one could see who we were, cause that would mean having to let go, having to tell the truth, and having to risk the pain. That would mean having to step into the light. But you know what, Cook. I've done it now, and it's not that fucking bad out here. In fact, it's better, much better. If I can do it, you can do it too."

"But you've always been stronger than me, Blondie," he said, his eyes starting to glisten with moisture. "And you had Emily. Who have I got?"

"I can do the same for you," said Emily, placing her hand on his arm. She held his gaze for long enough to gain his silent acknowledgement, before giving him the out that he needed. "Without the shagging part of course. Unless you fancy going another couple of rounds with slugger Campbell."

"Ok, enough of the touchy-feelies ladies," laughed Cook. "You could ruin a man's reputation. Let's eat."

He shoved a forkful of bacon into his gob.

"Mmmm," he declared. "Breakfast of fucking champions."

Emily spat banana smoothie across the table, and I nearly choked on a hash brown as we attempted to suppress our laughter at his words.

"What?" said Cook as he surveyed the helpless women before him.

"Ah," he said, as he realised why we found it so amusing.

"Oh yeah," he said, as he finally got the visual.

"Ow," he said as we simultaneously slapped him round the head.

"Pervert," said Emily, smirking at him.

"Yeah, but I'm your pervert," he grinned back at her.

Ah yes, James Cook - acrobat, idiot, best friend, pervert. You will always be mine.


	37. 37 The Sweet Escape

**A/N Well then, my lovelies. It's obviously been far too long since last we met, but you'll just have to trust me when I say there have been a lot of very good reasons. A lot of travelling, a lot of work and some insane amounts of fun, we are at the world's biggest arts festival after all. So thanks for not bugging me, and to the girl called J who asked after my health, I'm fine, the distractions have all been good. To Steph, yes that was us at La Tohu, and no I'm not a redhead, at least not this month! This chapter is dedicated to Oi Blondie for her marathon readathon and dedication to the cause, and also to everyone else for your patience.**

**Hyperlove and best wishes to you all.**

**I don't own Skins, but nobody's perfect.**

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37. The Sweet Escape

Emily

On this day a year ago I was unhappy, pretty bored and fucking angry. Katie and I were wafting around on our silks at some flashy corporate dinner thing, being moving wallpaper for a bunch of drunken rich idiots who couldn't give a shit about us and barely even looked at us. Sometimes those parties can be good, if the people are chilled. Sometimes you can get pissed on the free champagne, or pick up some fancy swag. But other times they treat you like shit, like you're their fucking servants. They won't let you talk to the punters or even into the party room unless you're actually doing the act. You usually have to get changed in the kitchen or some such shit and sometimes they don't even fucking feed you, and yet you still have to hang around for hours so you can de-rig. I had already had my revelation that I had had enough of this crap and wanted to do something more artistically satisfying, and the way the fucking arsehole promoter was talking to us had got me fuming. Katie had tried to get me to calm down so I wouldn't get us into trouble, but the sight of her sucking up to that ridiculous coke-addled dickhead only made me even angrier. Since when did my amazing flaming firebrand of a sister suck up to anyone? She was worth at least ten of him, and I wanted to tell him exactly that in no uncertain terms. In the end she had to sneak me out the back for a spliff just sure I didn't blow it for us.

"I know he's a wanker, Ems," she said calmly, "But he runs loads of events. We shouldn't piss him off."

"But why?" I countered. "So we can end up doing more shitty gigs like this where they treat us like we're scum?"

"It's good money," protested Katie.

"It's not good enough," I replied. "We're too good for this. You're too good for this."

"What do you want me to do?" she said, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Are you happy here?" I asked her.

She didn't reply, but the look in her eyes told me she had no answer. She couldn't say no because that would be letting me win, and she could never bring herself to do that, but she couldn't say no because she would be lying, and I would know. The reason that night was so etched into my memory is that it was our birthday. As I stared back at my sister's beautiful face I found myself making a resolution. My birthday present to her would be to get us out of there. I swore to myself that I would do it, that I would find us an escape route.

One year later and my escape route had led us here. The contrast was so extreme, it was hilarious. We had come to Cornwall for our last show of the season. It was one of those towns that had pretty much been taken over by hippies. They had taken the date of the town's old traditional fayre and expanded it into an amazing one day arts festival. In the daytime they had kept a lot of the old rituals, including some crazy race where people had to run round to all the town's churches dressed as demons collecting various offerings from fake priests, but they had added street performers and performance artists into the mayhem. And in the evening, the local people got together with the visitors to make a fantastic parade through the town. The whole thing was very pagan and anarchic and had gained quite a reputation over the past few years as one of the events to see in the British summer calendar. Gina was long term best mates with Angie and Bongo, the main couple who organised it so Abandon had performed here before in their early days, but this year we were to be the headline act. The parade would lead everyone to a natural amphitheatre on a cliff top overlooking the sea where we would perform our show outside. It was going to be a hell of a way to finish the tour.

That was in a week's time. Right now we were at a party in a barn at Angie and Bongo's farm, where we were all parked up. Maybe it was just the chemicals that were having their own little disco in my brain, but I swear if I my smile was any wider I would be in danger of tearing my own face apart. Have to say I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, having pulled off the most spectacular escape in history. This time last year I was doing shitty work that I hated, fucking around with pretty much any girl that would have me, and desperately dreaming that one day my life would be like this. As I sat outside that stupid posh fuckwit's party, grinding my teeth in anger, I would never have believed that twelve short months could have had such an incredible effect on my life.

Today really was a happy birthday. I was at an amazing party surrounded by my fucking beautiful, talented new family. I was completely in love with the most amazing woman I've ever met. Not only had I gained two new amazing surrogate mothers, I was finally starting to mend my relationship with my own. I had found a wonderful new brother who I knew that I could trust with my life. Ok, he was still called James and he was still a pervert but I guess some things never change. And my sister? Just one look at her was enough to tell me that if I were to ask her the same question today "Are you happy here?" the answer would be an unequivocal yes. This time last year I would never have expected Katie to embrace this kind of lifestyle with such rampant enthusiasm. I had expected her to moan about having to live in a caravan, about what the mud was doing to her shoes. I expected her to complain about having to put the tent up, and the lack of well-heeled guys she could manipulate into buying her expensive things. But Katie Fitch had changed. She was still the awesomely powerful individual she had always been, but now she no longer seemed to care about the trappings and status symbols that once used to matter to her so much. It would seem she had found whatever it was that was missing in her life, the thing that allowed her to drop all her attitude and bravado, and finally be happy with who she was. Whatever it was, was almost certainly provided by one Effy Stonem.

I watched to two of them dancing in the beam of one of those old school oil wheel projection lamps. The colours swirled over their bodies as they held each other in the fluid light. Their arms were wrapped lazily around each other as they swayed to a flamenco driven trance track. They seemed completely lost in their own world as they so often did when they danced together, despite the many envious eyes that were drawn to them. Often when we went out Naomi and I would find ourselves beset by guys who were turned on by the sight of two fit girls dancing together. But Katie and Effy who were still to the best of my knowledge straight enough to welcome the attention, were rarely even bothered. It was as if Effy's mystery had wrapped itself around the two of them creating an invisible barrier that no-one dared to broach. Effy knew the commotion she caused in the hearts of men but ever since I had known her she had chosen to ignore it. Katie used to bathe in male attention as if she needed it to survive, but now she no loner seemed to care as long as she was close to Effy. They were both so beautiful, and yet somehow seemed even more beautiful when they were together, and as I watched them dance I finally worked out why. They were at peace. In Effy Katie had finally found someone who loved her without wanting to take anything from her, and the space that Katie created for Effy was one where her demons feared to tread.

Were they shagging? None of us really knew. We never saw them kiss, but the easy intimacy they shared was one that most regular couples could only aspire to. It was something we never really talked about. Whatever was going on between them was simply too beautiful to be the subject of idle gossip. I am sure that each one of us speculated, and of course it would have been easy for me to ask, Katie was my twin sister after all. But despite her almost constant interference and prurient fascination in my love life ever since we were teenagers, my overwhelming instinct was just to leave her be. She would tell me if she wanted to, but until then I was prepared to let this delicate friendship slash romance develop at its own pace. I felt ever so slightly smug that it was my evil schemes that had brought Effy into her life. Happy Birthday Katie.

I felt a pair of arms slide round sensually round my body from behind. I instantly recognised her scent, and fell gratefully back into the embrace. Last time I'd seen her, she had been getting stoned with her mum and Freddie round the fire outside, looking as blessed out as I was feeling. But now she was back, my beautiful Naomi. She ran her tongue along my bare skin from the shoulder strap of my dress, up my neck to the base of my ear which she subsequently bit. I couldn't help but moan as my body shuddered, and an all too familiar desire flooded through me. I think we can be fairly sure that no-one is in any doubt as to the nature of our relationship. Naomi is becoming quite the sex goddess herself these days, but luckily she focuses all of her new found skills on me. My mind flashed back to earlier in the day when we were on our way here. We had come off the M5 and were driving on a dual carriageway through Devon. I had been driving the truck for the last hour when Naomi suddenly put her hand on my arm and looked at me urgently.

"Pull over at the next lay by," she said intensely.

"What's wrong," I said.

"Pull over," she repeated. "It's an emergency."

As soon as we came to a halt, she sprang from her seat and practically ran into the back of the truck. It took me a moment to put the handbrake on and kill the engine, but as soon as I could I was chasing after her to find out what was wrong.

"What kind of emergency? Are you sick?" I called out upon rushing into a seemingly empty truck.

Suddenly I felt myself being spun around and lifted up. Naomi threw me over her shoulder and carried me to the back of the truck, where she slung me onto the bed and then jumped on me, pinning my arms above my head.

"It's a sex emergency," she growled, before taking me with a kiss that burned like liquid fire.

Animal Naomi was back. When she gets like this, she is so raw she's almost primal. She opens up a need in me that is so intense, I have no choice but to sacrifice myself to her hunger. And I give myself willingly, knowing that no-one else could ever take me so completely. She had already ripped my top off and her teeth and tongue were sending repeated electric shocks of pleasure spiralling outwards from my nipples.

"How do you like your eggs, babe?" she hissed, before circling her tongue around my breast. "I can fry you, poach you, scramble you, do you any way you like."

If I could have cut my own tits off and presented them to her on a plate I would have done so in that moment. That was how completely she owned me. Fortunately, Naomi seemed to like them attached to the rest of my body, and she chose that moment to thrust herself inside of me.

"I need you," was all I managed to gasp, before being seized by complete abandon and letting the animal devour me. She fucked me halfway round the bed and I ended up with my head hanging off the edge as I screamed my way into orgasm against the aggressive actions of her hand. Her strong arms kept me from falling even if she was pulling at my hair so hard, she was in danger of ripping out a chunk. I didn't care, the violence of her passion only made the pleasure more intense. She bit down on my breast, hard, and once again explosions of cosmological intensity ripped through my tiny frame. The muscles in my cunt slammed shut around her, and I could feel my nails drawing blood as I dug them into her back. Somehow she managed to drag me back onto the bed without pulling out of me, and I clung to her spasming wildly with intense aftershocks, and feeling like I might just die if she ever took her fingers away from me.

"Fuck," I said. Somehow sex with Naomi temporarily stripped me of the ability to form any kind of words apart from 'fuck'.

"Yeah, that certainly was one hell of a fuck," said Naomi. "You are incredible."

"Fuck," was my brilliant contribution to the conversation.

I looked up at my filthy gorgeous girlfriend to see her mouth smirking at me, but her eyes now filled with love. I decided to attempt more words. I wanted to tell her all the beautiful things she made me feel.

"Fuck me," was all I managed.

"Ok," she said, deciding to take the meaning literally.

"What?" I gasped as she started moving again inside of me.

I couldn't believe it. I had only just come, and come hard, but she was arousing me all over again. Her movements were subtle but I was already so sensitive, the tiniest frictions were driving me crazy. I wanted it, I wanted her so badly, I started pushing myself against her once more. It felt unbelievable, different from anything I'd experienced before, but oh so fucking good.

"I need you," I called out to her again.

"You can have me," she whispered, her tongue mirroring her fingers and slowly forcing its way into my body to take me in another possessive kiss. Just before I felt myself giving in completely, I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her away from me.

"Where are you?" I said, reaching desperately between her legs. "I need to feel you."

Without stopping her motions between my thighs, she manoeuvred herself so I could plunge my fingers into her wetness. She groaned and pushed herself against me, the weight of her body increasing the pressure on her own hand inside of me, and I completely fucking lost it. As we started moving together, my free hand gripped tightly around her shoulder, and my mouth clamped against her neck. I no longer knew what I was doing to her or what she was doing to me. I only knew that it felt fucking sensational as we lost ourselves in a sea of sweat and motion and fluid and breathless moaning.

"I fucking love you. I fucking love you," I yelled into her neck, and I felt her get even wetter at my words. I bit hard into the powerful muscles of her shoulder, the muscles that held me safe when I was in the air, and was rewarded with even fiercer lunges into my already ravenous pussy. Surely this much pleasure had to be illegal. Or maybe we were just upsetting the balance of the nature, and somewhere across the world terrible things were happening because we were using up all the goodness.

"Emily Fitch, you are so fucking beautiful," Naomi gasped huskily into my ear.

Sorry world, but my own world will end If I don't make this woman come. I used my body to work my fingers faster and harder inside my lover, trying desperately to suppress the incandescent sensations this was causing to take over my own flesh. I didn't want to come without her, but the harder I worked for her, the closer to complete overload I came. I couldn't hold it any more.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna come, babe," I screamed at her helplessly.

"I'm coming with you, hun," she screamed back at me, pushing herself even more violently against me for a final few moments, before the familiar sounds of my girlfriend's orgasmic release came washing down around my ears. In an instant I added my music to her own, as the vocal representations of the most extreme amount of pleasure a human body could withstand exploded out into the atmosphere. We both rode it as long as we could bear it, before a comedown that felt like we were falling from the fucking stars. I swear her blue eyes were actually sparkling as she stared into mine.

"Happy Birthday, Ems," she said and kissed me softly.

.

We must have fallen straight into a sex coma, because the next thing I was aware of was someone knocking on the door. I blinked myself awake to see Naomi looking just as dazed and confused as me. We barely had time to come to our senses before a highly nervous JJ was feeling his way into the truck with his eyes closed.

"Sorry if you're shagging, sorry if you're shagging," he kept repeating before finally coming to a halt when he bumped into the wardrobe.

"Katie made me come in," he offered by way of explanation, his eyes still clamped tightly shut. "We saw you parked up, and I thought you might have broken down, but Katie reckoned you were shagging."

"We're not shagging," said Naomi.

"Oh good," said JJ, opening his eyes.

We were under the covers, and there really wasn't anything to see, but the fact that we were naked and obviously had been shagging was still to much for JJ. I am seriously going to have to get that boy laid.

"Shit, bollocks, bobbins, shitification, boobs," he said, clamping his eyes shut again and turning in haphazard circles. He was in danger of getting locked on, but the sound of my sister's voice, and her heels clicking up the steps snapped him back to reality.

"Were they shagging?" said Katie with her trademark candour. "I told you they'd be shagging."

"There is some very powerful evidence as to the likelihood of sexual activity," replied JJ, nodding towards the two naked women in the bed. Katie rolled her eyes at us.

"You two need locking in a cage," said Katie. I could see Naomi's eyes lighting up at the image, any traces of her former sexual shyness were now ancient fucking history. Unfortunately, Katie caught it too.

"You have absolutely no control, do you?" she said.

"It was an emergency," shrugged Naomi.

"A sex emergency," I giggled.

"Your whole lives are a fucking sex emergency," grumbled Katie.

"What can I say," grinned Naomi, "She's a Fitch."

Naomi was clever. She knew by now that any comment that implied Katie's own gorgeousness was bound to be accepted as the gospel truth.

"Wish I could have a sex emergency," stuttered JJ.

.

.

I was brought back to the present by Naomi placing an ice cold bottle of Sol on my shoulders before taking a swig and handing the bottle to me.

"Where did you go to just then," she asked me.

"Where do you think?" I replied.

I love how the mere act of thinking about us having sex makes Naomi's knees go weak. I love that the things I do still have that effect on her. She stumbled forward blindly reaching out for something to stabilise her. That something turned out to be Cook.

"Evening ladies," he grinned conspiratorially. "Over by the haystack. Sweet looking little blonde girl keeps looking over at us. And seeing as you two are practically married, that means she's all for me."

I followed his gaze, and found the girl who was indeed sweet looking and cute. As soon as I met her eyes, she started walking over to us.

"Aww, check that out," smiled Cook. "They all come to the Cookie Monster in the end. Operation Small, Blonde and extremely Shaggable is green for go."

"Are you with that circus lot?" said the girl in a local Cornish accent as soon as she had reached us.

"We surely are," said Cook puffing out his chest. "Circus Abandon at your service. I'm Cook."

"I'm Lara," replied the girl. "Do you know that boy who was doing the fire juggling outside earlier. The one with the curly hair?"

"Yeah," admitted Cook cagily.

"Has he got a girlfriend?" she asked him. "He's really cute."

"JJ?" said Cook, incredulously. "Really?"

"No he hasn't," put in Naomi. "And he's a really nice guy."

"He has a boyfriend though," said Cook.

"No he doesn't, you lying twat," said Naomi, swiping him around the ear.

"Come on," I said to Lara. "I'll take you to meet him."

The smile that lit up the whole of her face was a beautiful thing to witness. Maybe Naomi and I were not sucking all the goodness from the world after all. I grabbed her hand and started walking outside. Maybe it wasn't his birthday, but if anyone deserved a present it was him. Happy Birthday JJ.

.

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**So there we are. I will try not to make it such a long wait next time, but the dog days are over and I'm making no promises. Keep reading, keep writing. Be happy.**


	38. 38 Beautiful Chaos

**A/N So first things first. My deepest apologies to everyone whose wonderful stories I have not had time to review of late. I'm still loving your work, but I usually end up reading late at night after the show by which time all coherent thoughts have left my head, and your work deserves so much more than a simple 'yeah it was great, update soon.' Please know that I love and appreciate your hard work.**

**Secondly thanks to all my readers, whether you've talked to me or not. I know there's a lot of you, so cheers.**

**And lastly, I don't own Skins, but I think we all know that by now.**

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38. Beautiful Chaos

Naomi

There was only one word to describe it, mayhem, absolute bloody mayhem. Didn't these people have homes to go to? It had been the most amazing week, rehearsing the show in the cliff top amphitheatre. We had set up the king poles and rigging bar to make a portique, and put up the metal set, and rehearsed entrances and exits using the natural features of the bowl. Swinging outdoors under the sun with the wind in my hair and the sound of the sea crashing against the rocks below was fucking exhilarating. Even though we were working, it felt like we were already on holiday. Everyone seemed relaxed and happy. JJ was in seventh heaven. Lara had turned out to be an absolute sweetheart, and even the fact that she turned out to have a seven year old son, didn't faze him, and within a couple of days their new instant family had become the perfect fit. Freddie had found himself a bunch of stoner mates hanging out with the local surfer boys, and spent his time gawking at girls in bikinis. I hadn't had time to gawk at girls in bikinis, cause my own girl was hyperactive and was constantly dragging me off exploring. She took me climbing on the rocks and one day we had found this perfect little cave where we had had to deal with another sex emergency. But we still made sure we found time for Cook and included him in some of our adventures, before leaving him to go hunting amongst the local girls. Effy seemed to spend most of her time taking advantage of the amazing locations to take pictures of Katie in a variety of fabulous outfits. And for her part, Katie would never tire of being in front of the camera, especially as Effy excelled in making her look completely gorgeous.

Pandora was jumping up and down in front of me. She always seemed to be in her element when life was at it's most chaotic. She had been hyper stimulated ever since Thomas had won the demon race around the town and had been declared the Demon Prince. Panda had decided that this had automatically made her a Demon Princess and she was very fucking happy about it. The whole day had been intense, it had more of a feeling of a Spanish fiesta about it than an English country fair, and though Emily had bemoaned the lack of an oversized vegetable competition, I knew she was having a fucking good time. We were walking hand in hand through the crowd to go and watch an Australian stilt dance company, when our peace was shattered by the unmistakable plummy tones of Abigail Arts Council.

"Naomi, how fabulous," she called to me. "I was absolutely stoked when I heard you guys were doing this. It's really radical, ya. Like totally anarchic. Just your kind of thing. Mummy has a holiday home near here, so I always come down for this."

"Yeah, it's cool," replied Emily politely. "Everyone's really nice."

"Oh this is Emily," explained Abigail to an attractive looking Hispanic woman beside her. "She and Naomi do that totally amazing duet I was telling you about. This is Petra, she works for the British Council."

"Abigail tells me your act is very hot," purred Petra in a Latin American accent.

"Seriously, the most erotic thing I've ever seen on a stage," agreed Abigail, winking at us.

I felt Emily's hand grip mine tighter in what I can only assume was fear, but some how she managed to keep her smile.

"Thanks…." she croaked nervously.

"Absolutely super sexy, I swear they have to keep fire extinguishers on standby," laughed Abigail, guffawing at her own joke. "Speaking of sexy, is the Cookie Monster about?"

"He's over by the living statue of Medusa, trying to make her laugh," I said without a moment's hesitation.

"Safe," said Abigail excitedly. "Catch you ladies later, ya?"

"That wasn't very nice," laughed Emily once the Arts Council harpies were out of earshot. "Sacrificing Cook to his stalker."

"Weren't you listening, Ems?" I replied. "Her mate was British Council. You get in with them it means supported overseas touring. I have absolute no qualms about pimping out our boys for the cause. Besides, if someone's got to sleep our way to the top, I'm sure Cook would be a willing sinner. And I know he'd do the same to me."

"Thank fuck Abigail doesn't fancy you then," said Emily in alarm. "Or me for that matter."

"I'd never pimp you out, Hun," I assured her. "If it came to that we'd just have to stay poor and honest."

"Though I wouldn't kick that Petra out of bed," Emily smirked salaciously.

"Emily!" I scolded her.

"Fuck, did that come out loud?" she said guiltily. "I guess old habits die hard."

"It's ok," I said reluctantly. I had to remember that for this to work, I couldn't change who Emily was. "But I may have to punish you later."

"Oh well if that's the case," she said, putting her arms around my neck. "I might have to find a few other ways to be bad."

"I think wanting to fuck hot Latin American chicks is quite bad enough Ms. Fitch."

"I don't want to fuck her," said Emily, pulling my head towards her so she could whisper in my ear. "I want to fuck you."

Sex emergency alarm bells started blaring away in my head. Why the hell were we in the middle of a crowded street? Emily Fucking Fitch, one day you will be the death of me.

.

.

We had gone back and prepped for the show early as we wanted to be back for the parade. It was fantastic. Giant puppets and colourful costumes, stilt walkers and fireswingers. Samba bands and ukelele orchestras, and all manner of amazing sights and sounds paraded round the town and then led the huge crowd up to the top of the cliffs. The whole thing had been headed up by the new Demon Prince in a chariot pulled by the pack of guys dressed as goats, and of course his self-appointed Demon Princess had insisted on joining him for the ride. We arrived at site just as darkness was falling, and the place looked amazing. Thomas and Effy had done an incredible job of illuminating the surrounding rocks with lighting and projection. Effy had stayed behind to operate them, warning us that the carnival could bring back some very ugly memories. Katie had made sure she ran ahead of the parade once it reached the cliffs so she could be with Effy as it arrived. Luckily Anthea was never one to miss a party and had rocked up halfway through the week with Tony in tow, so Effy had extra protection during the show and the confusion that followed.

If rehearsing outdoors in that setting had been amazing enough, performing there at night in front of a massive crowd was fucking mindblowing. It was definitely one of those experiences that was going to be burned onto my brain forever. I could almost feel the pictures forming snapshots in my head as we danced and fought and swung for the final time of that eventful summer. The audience response was exhilarating. Even with a full house in the tent we had never played to a crowd that large. The amphitheatre was full to the brim, and people were almost hanging off the surrounding rocks to watch us. When they cheered, their roars virtually drowned out the PA, and the more they fed us, the more we gave them back. When you get a response like that, your adrenalin levels rocket. You feel no pain, and your strength seems to triple in an instant. I remember shows when I've felt so tired before going on that I have wondered how the hell I'm even going to get up a rope. But then you hear that sound and your bodies own natural chemicals can turn you into Superwoman. That night we were unstoppable, the power we experienced as we worked was better than any of the drugs we consumed in between times. Emily's one arm pull up came back with a vengeance, people were literally screaming during Cook's solo dance, and Katie had the whole audience eating out of the palm of her hand. As I built up to do my last trick on the cloudswing, I could feel so much energy in the air, it was like being in the middle of an electrical storm. The sheer volume of the excited gasps of the audience as I dived into my throwout had me smiling like crazy as I swung backwards through suspension. I flipped myself back up at the back of the swing and prepared to dive again. Usually if I was feeling good I managed a couple of throwouts in a row, but tonight the audience started cheering and I felt like I could go on forever. Five in a row. I managed five fucking throwouts in a row. Self indulgent I know, but it was the last night of the tour and I was going to fucking enjoy myself. The noise at the end of the show was deafening. Emily kissed me in the curtain call sending another roar of approval surging through the crowd. We were all as high as kites. I don't think any of us were even going to need to get munted that night.

The proof was there before me as Pandora continued to jump for joy and babble at me excitedly. Her upside down death slide had been even more extreme than usual, her head stopping just millimetres from the floor. All around us nobody was going home. All the participants from the parade were still dancing around and making music, and people had been queuing up to tell me how fabulous I was.

"I love it here," squealed Panda. "It's absolutely bonkers."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Completely fucking mental."

"Don't let Anthea hear you say that," warned Panda. "You know we're not supposed to say stuff about crazy people."

I refrained from getting into an argument with her about the merits of 'bonkers' versus 'mental', and tried a different tack.

"It's a beautiful chaos," I told her. "There's not enough nights like this."

"Pandemonium!" she shouted in delight. "Pandemonium. Pandemonium. I love that word. It's one of my favourites cause it's got my name in it. Panda-monium, see? What's your favourite word, Naomi?"

I was so taken aback by the randomness of the question that I only just stopped myself from blurting out that I actually had three favourite words and they were 'Emily', 'naked' and 'handcuffed', before I caught myself and fell back on and old favourite.

"Disreputable," I said, allowing the word to roll off my tongue with intent.

"You're so cool, Naomi," said Panda.

I was just about to smile at the compliment, when she added, "but Emily's made you loads dirtier."

Before I had the chance to reply, yet another group of people came up to gush at me about how wonderful the show was. It's really lovely, and it makes me proud that we can make people that fucking happy, but after a while it all starts to sound the same, and I found myself zoning out as my mind drifted to my dirty girlfriend. I smiled and made my excuses to my fans, and started to drift through the beautiful chaos in search of the girl who could make the magic of this night complete.

.

.

I wandered past Thomas teaching the other demons dances from the Congo. I saw Tony holding Effy in a protective embrace as she had braved the crowd to watch a beautiful girl dancing with fire poi. I gravitated towards the unmistakable sound of Anthea's voice, and watched her waving her cigarette round in the air whilst mouthing off about how samba should only ever be played by half naked Brazilians. I endured an 'oh so proud of you' hug from my beautiful mother and suffered a surge of the warm and fuzzy when I caught JJ jamming with the ukelele orchestra with Lara and her little boy dancing along with them. I did absolutely nothing to help when I found Cook having his ear chewed off by Abigail, merely giving him an ironic thumbs up as he stared at me helplessly over her shoulder. And I was delighted when I spotted British Council Petra with her hand planted firmly on Freddie's crotch. Nice one boys. Still no sign of either of the fabulous Fitches. I was at a loss of where to look next until I randomly remembered something Emily told me in Liverpool. She was pointing out carvings and decorations on all the old buildings the morning after our night in the hotel, and was going on about how many people never noticed them.

"You have to remember to keep looking up," she said. "That's where you can find the hidden treasure."

Instinctively I raised my gaze at the thought, and that's when I found them. Emily and Katie were sat on the rigging bar, taking down all the ropes and trapezes we couldn't leave out overnight. I abandoned the pandemonium and climbed up to meet them, crawling out onto the truss behind Emily and instantly feeling at home high up in the cool night air.

"Thanks for doing the de-rig," I said to them.

"Nah, we're good," shrugged Katie. "It's just nice to escape the madness. Felt like we needed some sister time."

"Oh right, has she told you?" I blurted out without thinking. The furious glare that Emily shot me over her shoulder told me that no, she still hadn't quite gotten round to telling Katie she was moving to Bristol. Idiot Naomi. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"Told me what?" said Katie with menacing calm. Shit. Emily decided to be bold and seize the moment.

"I'm not going to come back to London," she stated firmly, as if to deflect any possible argument.

"Well duh," shrugged Katie. "That's not exactly up to the minute news."

"You knew?" I said incredulously.

"It's one of the advantages of living with the woman who knows everything," smiled Katie, at the merest thought of Effy. "Means I get to know everything too. Besides, you two can barely cope with half an hour without each other's company. It's not exactly rocket science to work out that you're gonna have to live together."

"And you don't mind?" I asked.

"Bristol's not that far away," replied Katie "and you're still gonna have let her come and do some gigs with me. You can't steal my sister and my livelihood all in one go."

"No problem," I assured her. "And anyway, we'll be back on tour again before you know it."

"Can I consider that an official recall for next year then?" said Katie.

"Fuck yeah," I told her. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

"I'll miss you," said Emily.

"What, during the five minutes every day when you're not shagging Blondie?" laughed Katie caustically. She may be a softer, gentler version than the one that started the summer, but she's still Katie Fitch after all.

"Seriously," insisted Emily, forcing Katie to relent.

"I'll miss you too," she admitted. "But we can't live breathing each other's air for the rest of our lives. Anyway, I have Effy now."

"So you are shagging her?" I said carelessly. What was it with me, and the blurty honesty tonight?

"Don't be ridiculous," scoffed Katie.

Oh so they really are just good friends. Just extremely good friends. Who touch each other all the time.

"Effy doesn't need that kind of complication in her life right now."

Oh my God, she's thought about it. She's thought about sex with Effy, and she's not ruling it out. Katie Fitch the man magnet wants to sleep with her best friend.

"You know she loves you?" said Emily.

"Yeah, I know," sighed Katie. "But she matters so much to me, I couldn't bear to fuck it up."

"What makes you think you'd fuck it up?" I said.

"I'm not like Emily," she replied.

"Not gay?" I asked.

"Not fearless," said Katie. "I remember when we were little kids, the next door neighbour's kid got a bike for his birthday, and he offered us a go. Neither of us could ride a bike, but that didn't stop Emily. She took that bike to the top of a hill and tried to freewheel down and start pedalling once she reached the bottom. She kept falling off, but every time she would just get back up, push the bike back up to the top and try again. All I did was stand and watch until she finally cracked it. The look of pure joy on her face was incredible as she rode around and gained command of it, but I was still too terrified of falling to even try. I made up some lame comment about bikes being for losers, and it was another two years before I went near one again."

"Effy's not a bike," laughed Emily.

"Isn't that a slang for bisexual? So technically, she is," giggled Katie, before suddenly becoming serious again. "What if I try, and I can't handle it? She's doing so well, she really is. She hasn't even had an episode since Liverpool. I can't put that in jeopardy by fucking around with her heart, and then running back to men. I have to be strong for her. I have to be sure, but how can I be sure without trying?"

She dropped the last of the ropes back down to the stage, and started moving away from us.

"Where are you going?" said Emily.

"Where I always go," smiled Katie. "To find her, to hold her, to breathe with her. I fucking love just breathing with her."

That was so fucking beautiful, how could it not be love? I could practically see Katie's heart glowing in her chest.

"Effy told me something once," said Emily. "She told me to be brave. I think she would want you to try."

"She's worth the risk," I called out to Katie. It's always worth the risk.

"I know," she replied with genuine feeling as she flipped her leg off the truss and started climbing down the kingpole. "I'm just still trying to figure out if I am."

I felt Emily's hand involuntarily squeeze mine as she listened to her sister's self doubt.

"You're Katie Fucking Fitch," said Emily forcefully. "Of course you fucking are."

We were rewarded with the sound of Katie's beautiful laughter swirling back up towards us as she continued her descent. It made me grateful that my fabulous Fitch had been bold enough to fight through all my fears.

"Come here," I said, pulling her backwards into a close and loving embrace. "Breathe with me."

We sat there for several minutes, slowly allowing our breathing to fall into sync. Gradually the sounds of the sea, and the revellers below seemed to drift into the background as I became hyper aware of the breath and heartbeat of the beautiful woman in my arms. It was almost as if I could feel her life force buzzing against my skin and in the air around me. I felt so connected to everything, to her, to the world, to life. It was as if I could feel and understand every atom in my body, every atom in her body. Because of her I no longer had to hide. Because of her I could look the future in the eye with confidence. Because of her, I knew I could do anything. Because of her, I was no longer afraid. I pressed my lips into the back of her neck and enjoyed the delicious shiver it produced in her.

"So, Ems. Last night of the tour," I whispered. "What do you want to do?" Drink? Dancing? Drugs? Wild abandoned sex?"

"We can do that anytime," she shrugged, and I giggled because it was true. We were living charmed lives.

"I want to do something special," she said.

"What?" I asked, knowing I would promise her anything.

"Just this," she said softly, nestling herself even further back into my embrace and running her fingers across my arms. "I want to do just this."

She let her head fall back onto my shoulder, and I lost myself in the scent and soft flesh of her neck. This time I slowly let the world back in, absorbed the sounds of sea and celebration into the paradise of my union with Emily. I began to wonder could this moment be any more perfect? But ever since I'd given myself to Emily Fitch, I had discovered that there was magic in the world.

"Look," she hissed excitedly. "Shooting star."

I ran my hand along her outstretched arm and let my eyes follow her gaze up to the heavens. Just as I caught the dying trail of the shooting star, another one ignited its fiery path across the sky. And another, and another until we found ourselves witness to a full on meteor shower. Nature's own firework display playing just for us.

"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me," I said incredulously. I know I felt in tune with the universe when I was with Emily, but this was too perfect to be true. Emily had her own theory.

"Do you think the Stonems had a word with the gods and arranged this for us?" she giggled.

We slipped back into a comfortable silence. I knew we would have to descend back into the seething pandemonium at some point, but for now holding Emily under the stars was not just everything I wanted from life, it was life itself.

"Do you know what I don't get?" she asked me softly. "How I can be so completely yours and yet still feel like me."

"I feel more like me," I replied with certainty. "That girl I was before was just a faker. I believed in my work, but I never really believed in me. Being with you has set me free."

When I thought over everything I had gained over the past few months, it was almost too much to bear. Not just cause Emily loved me, but because she had taught me how to love her back. It was as if she had taken of my blindfold, and suddenly I could see that the world was beautiful.

"I don't ever want this to end," I said, breathing with her once more.

"Babe," she said, with that beautiful husk in her voice that would forever make my pussy tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Once you've tasted Naomi Campbell, there's no going back."

.

.

.

**And that my beautiful friends is the end of our story. The tour ends, and I leave my lovers happy, and with a bright future of art and love stretching out before them, not to mention the occasional sex emergency. There's a lot of people to thank for this experience, but I'll leave that to the traditional follow up author's note as I'm actually feeling a little emotional right now. You've been a wonderful audience. Thank you and goodnight.**

**HyperFitched xxx**


	39. 39 Author's Note

**Ok, so now it's time for the customary author's note which I've been putting off cause I've been enjoying all the wonderful comments and messages you've been sending me since this story ended. Also because it means letting go, but the end had to come. I couldn't go on writing about them doing shows and having fabulous sex forever, but that's what they're doing dear readers, rest assured.**

**Anyway, it seems kind of appropriate to be doing this now, as I am recovering from a typically Skins type night of debauchery and hedonistic excess. All in the name of research of course, but let's just say it was eventful.**

**So I guess all I really want to say is thank you. I found this site when I was in a pretty bad way. My arm was in bits and I was being tested for bone cancer (which thankfully I don't have!). At first all I could do was read and lurk, which got me through the physical pain. Then I read some really cool stuff and got sucked into typing out one fingered reviews with my good arm. And then the inevitable happened and I just had to take a crack at writing my own story. It's been a bloody slow recovery process, I don't think I realised how long it would take to heal, and the doctors were being very strict with me, but writing about what I love was a fantastic way of sharing that passion when I wasn't able to physically do it. I'm happy that you all enjoyed me taking these characters into my world. At first I just toyed with the idea, thinking in my head about how they could all be in the circus, but then when I realised how I could make it work, I tried to do them all justice. I hope I managed it. I think poor Freddie didn't get much of a showing, but at least I didn't kill him off and gave him a sexy Latino girl to shag at the end.**

**I don't want to spend any time on flamers, because in my opinion everybody who posts on here deserves respect. Some writers on here are inexperienced or not writing in their first language, so I don't give a toss about perfect spelling and grammar and shit. If you can in some way communicate your passions then that's good enough for me. Of course I'm not going to like everything, but who the fuck am I to judge anyone else? That said there is some awesomely brilliant stuff on here and some people who have inspired me and supported me, so here is my Oscar speech…cue tearful gushing….**

**KairiM - your story lit the spark of the idea that became I Hold A Force I Can't contain.**

**FaithSky - my self professed number one fan, you write some awesome stuff and your reviews always made me smile**

**LuvActually - for the greatness that was Coin Laundry, and for being out there in the real world being fabulous.**

**Circle 142 - put that Swedish girl down and do some more writing**

**NiceOneBlondie - Ink is just the dog's bollocks as we Brits say, and thanks for 'sex tornado'**

**FoolishGames - for the pure raw beautiful passion of Electric Feel**

**Lizardwriter - the true queen of Keffy goodness**

**Self is an activity - I know you're probably busy kicking some girl's ass but I'd love to read that Campbell/Stonem fight one day**

**RuinMyLife - ma belle Quebecoise passione (sorry don't know how to type accents!)**

**Stunty - for being brave and writing what's real for you despite tossers who would never have the balls to do what you do in the real world**

**Imagine Alex - for making me think as well as feel**

**MyOtherRideIsYourMum - doing something special with Somewhere I have Never Travelled**

**SummerSkins - growing into a fucking beautiful writer**

**Ladyhawk - tantalising us with her flickers**

**Well quite frankly there's just too many of you and I'm sorry if I've missed you off, but know that the Hypes has love for you all xx **

**Another huge thank you is due to my reviewers, I'd love to name check you all but then we really would be here all day. It's been amazing to read all the lovely things you've said about my work and I'm glad I've been able to give you pleasure with my ramblings. And thanks to everyone else who has read and enjoyed this.**

**So it's over, and it seems that I should have handed out tissues with that last chapter, but what's next? Well last week I managed to climb a rope almost to the top of the tent, and had a swing off the cradle, and soon I'm gonna get a pretty girl to hang off me so very excited about that. This tour is ending soon, but I'm off to play a pirate in a winter show which is gonna be tremendous fun. And as for writing? Well some of you already know this, but I tried really hard when making this story to write an authentic recovering Effy and in the process I fell in love with her, as did my Katie. Which wasn't my original intention, but they just kind of took me by surprise and made themselves into something beautiful. So I'm gonna backtrack to part way through this summer, and look at it through the eyes of Katie Fucking Fitch and the Beautiful Bomb, cause it's time I invited them to centre stage for a bit (and clearly I just wanna write more Anthea!). It's going to be a challenge writing from inside Effy's head, but it's one that I'm more than happy to take on, so I'll see you back at the circus. **

**Keep writing, keep reading, keep loving and oh yeah…..Be Brave.**

**Hypes xxx**


	40. IHAFICC Soundtrack 1

IHAFICC SOUNDTRACK

I've been meaning to do this for ages, but never quite got round to doing it. Music is such a big part of my life and of my stories I thought it was time to share. I'm gonna post the mixes on Soundcloud so if any of you feel like having a listen to what goes on in my brain you'll be able to download it. Go to soundcloud dot com forward slash hyperfitched – or just typed HyperFitched into the soundcoud search bar.

It's just one track per chapter so they'll either fit with the whole thing or just highlight a part of it… anyway the track listings are below. Enjoy…

Hypes xxx

MIX 1

Dirty Cash Remix – DIS E

Cause much as though we'd love to be able to make our shows completely independently, we all need money, and we have to jump through the Arts Council's hoops to get it. There's a quaint little irony about taking government money, but we all do it ha ha.

2. It started with a boy Venus as a boy – Bjork (Parker remix)

For the boys that influenced my Fitch Twins on their way to their circus life, and because I think it would be an awesome track to watch a boy do rope to

3. Reputations Fuck and Spend – High Speed Scene

Simply cause this track simply screams ANTHEEEAAAAAA!

4. Doing Doubles Altitude (Red Square Remix) – Hybrid

I can totally picture Naomi doing cloudswing to this track, and that makes me happy

5. Sex, blood, aggression and Violence Point of Authority/99 Problems – Linkin Park and Jay Z

This one needs no further explanation

6. Sibling Empathy Goodbye Emily – Parov Stelar

I love this guy's music and I recommend you check him out. I saw him play a DJ set in Edinburgh and there were three stage invasions! Aside from the obvious link in the title, this reminds me of Emily finding her identity and asserting herself.

7. Breakdown Cracks (Flux Pavilion mix) – Freestylers feat. Belle Humble

For Effy, and when we begin to see the cracks in her mysterious exterior

8. The Invisible Boyfriend Look on the Brightside remix – 33 1/3

The original is one of the best tracks about jealousy ever, but I love the remix because of its slightly fucked up dreamy quality

9. Naked Heaven Must be Missing an angel – Tavares

My fave disco track ever, and the one to which Cook does his dance. Shake that ass boy!

10. Showtime Come Alive – Janelle Monae

Dirty, raw and exciting – this captures the excitement and spirit of the show. It's when we come alive.

11. Safe Shipwreck – Random Recipe

A band from Montreal that I discovered whilst I was out there, during the time I was writing this story. I like its mixture of confusion and optimism for everybody's state of mind in this chapter

12. The stoned, the confused and the weary Don't need the sunshine – Catatonia

This is a beautiful track, and always reminds me of being at festivals in the rain. I also think it suits Gina's café and Emily's bonding with Freddie and Effy.

13. Cabaret extreme She's not there – Santana

A fucking classic – this is for Naomi's feelings when Emily leaves her alone to be with Shayna

14. Glastonbury 1 Fiesta – Madame Laycock and her Dabeno Pleasures

A local Yorkshire band (and my mates). I love this for the way it sums up the gorgeous recklessness of Glastonbury

15. Glastonbury 2 All this love – The Similou

I like this for the chorus "All this love, saved up for nothing" – which reminds me of Naomi's frustration, and how she's literally bursting with love for Emily by this point.

16. Desert Longings Mr Bobby – Manu Chao

I find this track to be beautiful and poignant at the same time, and I think it's a good soundtrack for Emily's longing…

17. The redhead at the side of the bed The trick is to keep breathing – Garbage

I love the way this track turns round so subtly from despair to hope and I think it fits with Naomi's journey in this chapter

18. The belly of the fire You know I'm No Good – Amy Winehouse

So this is the track I had playing in the pub the first time they kissed, for no other reason other than that it's a fucking sexy piece of music.

19. Breakfast of champions The Strings of my heart – Judy Garland

I chose this because even though they swear, and drink and shag like champions, Naomi and Emily's story is a classically beautiful old fashioned romance. A classically magnificent love story that fits right in there with the greatest lovers of all time.

Part two coming soon

Feel the love

Hypes xxx


	41. IHAFICC Soundtrack 2

OK, here's part two of the mix. Both this and part one are now downloadable from soundcloud.

MIX 2

20. Wordless – Come to me - Bjork

This song speaks of the way both women are completely captured by what they've discovered, but are too scared to name it, in case they destroy it.

21. Flawless – Promises – Booty Vibes Remix

An emotional rollercoaster of a chapter this, so I've chosen this track which veers between vocals that are laced with uncertainty and yet possibility and some heavy drops to signify the twists and turns.

22. The shape of the world – Piece of String – Clock Opera

This is my mate's band and I love it for the vulnerability of the vocals. For me it perfectly frames Naomi's capitulation to Emily's games, and their connection up on the rigging bar.

23. Twin suns - True Romance – Parov Stelar

This has been chosen cause it's just so goddam beautiful, and has an air of inevitability about it, much like our Twin Suns

24. Waking up - Your love gets sweeter – Finley Quaye

The next two tracks reflect the different reactions of the two girls to finding themselves caught in the grip of this immense love. Emily is quite happy to go with it and enjoy the ride…

25. What is this feeling called love - Feeling called love? – Pulp

Whereas Naomi is still scared shitless event though she can't help herself round Emily.

26. Another place - This Modern Love – Bloc Party

Emily has always been the more emotionally mature of the two, and this song reflects the way she is prepared for give Naomi her flaws and wait for her to catch up with her.

27. Since she was sweet sixteen - Too Lost In you – Sugababes

And now is the moment I reveal my (not so) secret love for the early Sugababes… (until Mutya left) This song is a perfect picture of obsessive love.

28. Passion is a language - Jungle Shadow – Kiril feat. MC Wasp and Ruci

I love the energy and joy of this track for the passion of the lovers, and the gypsy vibe to represent the fighting Fitches and the power of the tribe against the ignorant

29. Isadora - Cold War – Janelle Monae

This song is about making a stand even though it might cost you. I urge you to look up the video for this one YouTube – it's beautiful

30. Nine years of war - Disappoint you (High Constrast mix) – Jargon

I love the push and pull of this track between the vocal section and the bass drops. It fits Emily and Jenna's battle perfectly in my mind.

31. Blessed rains - Because the Night – Patti Smith Group

There's a whole generation who have only heard a shoddy techno remix of this, so it's about time we set that straight. Here's the original – raw, passionate, gorgeous – just like our lovers' need for each other.

32. Three simple stages - I was made for loving you - FreqNAsty

The only track for this chapter – these two were made for each other. And it's just fucking sexy.

33. Little fluffy clouds - Believers – Smith and Mighty

Love this track, Bristol band, great vocals, lazy beat – perfect cloudwatching music.

34. I love it when you prove me wrong - Gun Clip – Beat Assassins

I chose this for it's dirty beat, and the sassy attitude of the vocals. A most excellent background for a bit of dutty lovin'.

35. Bad Blood - Move On – Farace

Love this track. It's so in your face, and I think it's great for the powerful aggression between Naomi and Cook.

36. You will always be mine - Who is it? – Bjork

This is for Naomi and Cook remembering how much they mean to each other, and that with Emily they can become even stronger.

37. The sweet escape - Upside down – Paloma Faith

This track is so happy, and it reflects Emily's delight at escaping the corporate world and finding her true family.

38. Beautiful chaos - Raise your Glass - Pink

Because we will never be anything but loud and nitty gritty dirty little freaks. And I raise my glass to all of you who have enjoyed this story.

If you have enjoyed the artists on these mixes then I encourage you to check out their work, and if you have money to maybe spend a few coins on their work. They're not all big rockstars and musicians need to eat too. I have enjoyed doing this, and your reactions to it so I guess I'll be doing the same thing for 99 Problems soon.

Feel the love.

Hypes xxx


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